


Scarlet Princess

by TheHolyAbyssBishop



Category: Elfen Lied, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Single Parent Lucy | Nyuu | Kaede (Elfen Lied)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24675316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHolyAbyssBishop/pseuds/TheHolyAbyssBishop
Summary: How does one survive in a world that seems to always be out to get you? How do you survive in a world where you trust no one? How do you survive in a world in which you are its natural enemy destined to overtake those that reign?So powerful, yet so helpless. A river might be mighty amongst the streams, but it could not possibly overthrow the ocean.Hiding seemed like a good option. Hide away from their eyes. The eyes of the tormentors. But in a place so comparatively small in the world it was only inevitable that hiding wouldn't work forever.Thankfully, not everyone seems to know the game being played. And it could make all the difference.
Relationships: Lucy (Elfen Lied) & Mariko (Elfen Lied), Lucy (Elfen Lied) & Nana (Elfen Lied), Nana (Elfen Lied) & Mariko (Elfen Lied)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33





	1. Burglary Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for joining me. I hope you enjoy!  
> Also, expect tags to be added as the story progresses.

It was a quiet night in the densely packed suburbs of Musutafu, Japan. Most of the populace was fast asleep in their homes silently dreaming without fear due to the presence of the heroes who patrolled the city.

One such home lied unassuming in the dark.

It was a small, two-story abode with the typical tiled roof. Said room was a grayish-blue while the sides of the house were a faded white, slightly dirtied by time and the elements. The home itself was shaped as two, large boxes slightly offset from each other by a few feet. Facing the home, the left ‘box’ was squarer and contained a couple windows and the front door. The right side of the house was more rectangular with a couple, longer windows and a slight downward incline where a tiny garage was situated. The house had virtually no long save for a small area out front and what would be no more than an extended patio out back.

The last light from upstairs went out as the two parents went to sleep for the night for an early day the following morning. Their three children were already asleep in their respective rooms to be ready for school the following morning.

The entire family was unaware of the figure sneaking up to their house.

The person was thin and roughly 164 cm tall. Their hair was hidden by a dark beanie, while a dark scarf covered the low half of their face. A dark-colored jacket, boots, and jeans completed the person’s outfit. It would have been an odd sight out on the streets had it not been getting closer to winter and thus was colder outside. Carried by a strap over their shoulder was an equally-dark-colored duffle bag that was clearly empty due to how easily it changed shape against the figure’s body.

After glancing down either direction of the street to ensure no one was present or at least watching, the figure crossed the street as quickly and quietly as they could to hide behind a small, white car sitting in front of the house.

Glancing once again down each end of the street to ensure no one was watching them and confident that they were in the clear the figure took a deep breath. It was time to get to work.

A brief pause and suddenly the figure, without making any motion that would betray a physical move like jumping, launched several feet into the air, clearing a metal gate and fence that blocked access to the side and rear to the relatively small home. Right before landing, the person’s fall was stopped about a foot or two above the ground before slowly being lowered into contact with the concrete that made up the side path to the house.

The clearly-dodgy character crept their way as quietly as they could to the rear of the house away from any prying eyes that might be taking a late-night stroll or any heroes passing by during their patrols. The goal was to get in and get out unseen. Simple as that.

“ _If only it was ever that simple_ ,” the figure thought solemnly. A headache emerging from memories they’d rather forget. “ _Focus… they are counting on you…_ ”

Reaching the backdoor, the would-be home invader focused on the door handle. They knew the home had no alarm for the doors having scoped out the house for the past couple of days snooping around to ensure the robbery would be clean. A skill acquired after several… messy encounters in previous homes.

Slowly, trying not to make a sound, the lock of the backdoor turned to the unlocked position without any apparent hand to guide it into place. A moment later, the handle of the door did the same, turning such to allow the door to open. Even then, the door opened with a painful slowness, ensuring the door would not creak and, even if it did, not loudly enough to alert anyone in the building.

The figure repressed a sigh, normally, they would’ve gone through the window. With their powers it was easy to get in without making noise and a window was less likely to make noise when opened. However, this house had windows that opened with a crank on this inside, which normally wouldn’t have been much of a problem, but during their observations, the windows creaked loudly. They were likely rarely used and never really maintained. So, the door it was. Thankfully, it looked new, recently redone it seemed, and, as the person had hoped, made no sound when opened.

The burglar entered slowly, using their power to test and avoid anything on the floor or their surroundings that could make any noise to alert the family in the house that something was amiss.

The room just inside the back door, on the larger side of the house, was a kitchen with a large cabinet, countertop, and cupboards on the right and to the left was a larger area for the kitchen which included a sink, refrigerator, dish washer, and further cupboards above and below the counter top. Straight ahead was a doorway that led to what appeared to be a simple living room and a hallway to the right just passed it currently out-of-sight of the intruder.

Still moving slowly and inching their way right, they finally reached their target: the pantry.

An odd choice for thievery to be sure, or at least it would be if it weren’t for circumstances the robber was currently in. The robber reached into their pocket and pulled out a tiny, hand-held light that they had swiped from a hardware store. Clicking it twice to cycle the light to a red light to allow the robber to see clearly in the dark, pantry cabinet without giving off an obvious light that could be seen from the street through the windows.

The figure thoroughly analyzed the contents of the cabinet after opening it up with their typical slow, methodical approach. The power came in handy certainly. From shoplifting to pickpocketing to robbery. Here especially as it allowed the robber to touch things without leaving fingerprints or, in the case of bad weather, footprints that could be tracked in muddy environments.

The figure leaned in, their power shifting items in the pantry to get a clear picture of everything. With that, the thief knelt and opened their duffle bag by covering the zipper with their hands to muffle the sound while using their power to open the zipper. Inside the bag, despite outward appearances, the bag had a few towels to be used to muffle the sound of clanging containers of food that were put into the bag.

With that, they began to load cans, boxes of snacks, cereals, and other such food items, and even a couple loaves of bread that were inside as well; arranging them as such with the towels to ensure minimal, if any, sound could be heard from contents within the duffle bag. It took an agonizing five minutes for the thief to fill the bag and arrange the contents in a way that satisfied them that it wouldn’t make a racket when picked up and carried out. Zipping up the bag the same way they unzipped it, followed closely by turning off the flashlight and closing the pantry door with the usual practiced stealth, the thief arose and prepared to walk out with their ill-gotten gains.

That’s when the thief caught something out of the corner of their eye. Without thinking, they shot their head in the direction of whatever it was and immediately froze. In the corner of the kitchen, out of sight to outside observations, was a home security camera. And it was pointed right at them.

A cold chill went down their spine as they glanced at the wall next to the camera. The moonlight through the window embedded in that wall illuminated the intruder where they stood. The previous action of jarring their head towards the camera slightly shifted the beanie revealing a bit of pinkish-red hair and their crimson eyes to the moonlight and to the electronic eye that had been watching their every move the entire time. Their identity was all but exposed. Even in a world of quirks that made people appear in all sorts of bizarre ways, they doubted it’d be hard to pinpoint the thief once footage was aired or reviewed by police.

“ _Dammit_ ,” the person thought. “ _It really is never that simple…_ ”

Re-adjusting the beanie and the position of their head to obscure their identifying features again, the intruder began formulating a plan to fix this blunder. Most robberies should be quick. Without the camera, the robber would’ve considered the time they took to get in and get out acceptable especially considering what they were stealing and what they had to account for to ensure a clean getaway. And this intruder could not, under any circumstances, risk anything but a getaway with no way of identifying them.

Swiftly moving back out the still open door, they put their duffel bag just under the kitchen window that had illuminated them earlier to hide it out of sight from those inside the house. Neighbors, those who had a second story and were nosey enough to glance over at someone else’s backyard, likely wouldn’t find such a thing sitting outside suspicious. They might have been concerned by the open door being suspicious, but people were also far more likely to just assume it was an accident rather than foul play at work. Less confrontation to deal with. Additionally, they figured if the cops did show up that they’d make enough of a commotion to alert them allowing for an easy escape through the already-opened door.

From experience and observation, simple home-invasions were usually handled by police unless it was clear either from the call or from cops at the scene that a hero was required for the job. A hero showing up might not be as obvious as a cop checking in on a family and would certainly be much more of a hassle to deal with. Primarily, in the aftermath of the event.

She knew how security cameras worked. While they could wirelessly transmit their feed anywhere, most home security cameras sent their feed to a DVR in the house itself as many people didn’t have off-site monitoring. Destroying the DVR would destroy the video feed. Simple. The not-so-simple part was finding it. In a house whose layout wasn’t familiar to her. While not waking the family. And quickly before someone did notice anything was up. Oh, and there was a good chance the feeds from the DVR were also linked to the phones of the two parents upstairs so those would likely need to be dealt with, too.

Perfect.

With that, the intruder did what no robber should ever do: they went back inside returning to the scene of the crime.

“ _So much for becoming more professional_ ,” the figure grumbled mentally as they pulled one of the classic blunders of thievery. Consciously no less.

Creeping back through the doorway, the figure made their way silently towards the doorway ahead of them; growing slightly more cautious and anxious the closer they got to it. This was not planned out. Sure, being in the kitchen the intruder could’ve just lit the house on fire using the stove and any flammable material that was around, but that would certainly garner attention they did not want and might not even guarantee the destruction to be a success. In their mind, it made more sense to try to simply remove the DVR without raising any alarm first before resorting to more extreme measures.

Not that they particularly cared about the occupant’s well-being. After all, if they cared they wouldn’t be a target, but humans had done the intruder no favors in the past and were the source of all their troubles. Their pain. How negatively they were affected was not a concern of theirs.

“ _Focus_ ,” the intruder reminded themselves. “ _Keep your head on straight. Especially now. They need you to come back safely_ …”

There was time to be angry at humanity for their crimes. Now was not that time.

They peaked through the doorway and glanced around the living room. Nothing too spectacular other than a couch, loveseat, and a tv with shelves beneath it for players, game systems, and the like. However, despite checking, there was no camera DVR hidden amongst the TV and game system boxes.

“ _Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy_ …”

Delving further into the home, the intruder couldn’t help cursing their luck. Passing the front door, ducking slightly to avoid the window that was just above head level to them, they observed their surroundings: to the right, a doorway likely leading down a short flight of stairs to the garage; ahead, were the stairs up; to the left, one more window.

The likeliest place for the DVR to be would be in the closet inside the master bedroom. Hopefully that was the case so that they could snatch the parents’ phones while in there to ensure no link was made to the device. Most people didn’t concern themselves with cleverly hiding it; just hiding it out of sight. After all, what were the odds that someone with above average skill and experience with burglary and theft robbing your house? More likely was the desperate thug or villain, the opportunistic drug addict, or, if unlucky, a small time, planned operation by a small group. So, most people didn’t overly consider the hiding place of the camera’s DVR.

Unfortunately for this family, this particular intruder was no such rookie. They hadn’t lasted this long on the streets for nothing, after all.

Which explained perfectly why they were now delving deeper into a house they hadn’t planned to search for the DVR of a security camera they hadn’t seen because they’d foolishly been revealed to it by a fluke of clothing and moving.

The thief allowed themselves an aggravated sigh; a soft huff unheard by anyone sleeping none the wiser on the upper floor of the fiend below them.

Slowly, they reached the staircase and placed a foot upon the first step.

CRE—

The robber’s foot immediately left the steps. They remained frozen there, foot dangling above the step, waiting and listening for the sound of anyone roused by the noise in the house. After a long, agonizing minute passed by with an ear pinned the noises surrounding them…. Nothing.

The intruder felt their teeth grind against each other in frustration.

“ _Oh, sure_ ,” they grumbled mentally. “ _The door or cabinet didn’t creak, but the moment I’m forced to go deeper, suddenly things start creaking._ ”

The hard way it was, so it seemed.

Focusing their power once more, they began to levitate off the ground allowing them to awkwardly float up the stairs as the thief guided themselves without causing the steps to creak. Reaching the top of the stairs, the thief forwent their usual caution to refocus themselves. One, large inhale and near-silent exhale later, the intruder readied themselves for the hardest part of all of this.

Looking left, they saw a single door and, judging from the lack of doors remaining on this side of the house, this was likely the master bedroom due to its size. To the right were three doors, one straight ahead at the end of the hallway and one on either side of the hallway. Likely where a bathroom was, and the kids’ rooms were. Left it was.

Now using their power to test the area in front of them for creaks, the burglar made their way over to the door of the master bedroom. Anxiety wretched their gut, briefly considering if this excursion was worth it. After all, it was only a shot of their eyes and their hair that was seen. However, unpleasant memories flooded their mind reminding them just why they were so meticulous about not letting any part of their identity be known. About how under no circumstances could they draw attention to themselves by any authority or even hint at who they were to prying eyes.

The risks associated with this were far less so than the hell that would occur with the alternative.

Opening the bedroom door with the same carefulness as the front door, the thief made their way inside. The room was darker than the rest of the house they’d been in thus far due to the curtains being drawn to block out the light, but the thief’s eyes had long since acclimated to the moonlit ambience. They could just make out ahead of them a queen-sized bed where two people were sound asleep oblivious to the extra person in the room. The colder environment causing them to stack an extra blanket over their comforter.

On either side of the bed was a bedside table complete with lamp and a few items the intruder could just make out the silhouettes of. Nothing clear enough however to tell what they were. To the left side of the room they could make out a drawer of clothing up against the wall behind a protrusion in the wall where they assumed the closest was. Peering in cautiously, they looked right along the wall and just barely noticed a door on the right that appeared to be the master bedroom’s separate bathroom.

“ _First thing’s first_ ,” they thought. “ _Find their phones._ ”

While most camera systems only allowed you to use apps to view live footage from cameras, there was still the possibility that some camera’s recorded footage on motion and saved it. Better to tie up loose ends first. One slip-up is how they got into this mess to begin with so, of course, pressure was mounting to ensure this wasn’t all for nothing.

Creeping in as quickly as they could without accidentally creating a bunch of racket, they approached the bedside closest to them. There, just visible in the moonlight, was a phone connected to a plug hidden behind the bedside table via a charging cable. The intruder glanced to their right. The couple was sleeping silently in the bed next to the lone thief; blissfully unaware that someone was in the room with them looming near them.

“ _Stay asleep. Do not wake up_ ,” the thief thought, as if trying to turn their thoughts into reality with sheer will.

They reached over and grabbed the phone while also slowly turning away from the sleeping parents. Pressing the screen of the phone tightly against their person, they hit the power button and continuously pressed the ‘volume down’ button to ensure no sound would come from the electronic device. Then they swiftly unplugged the phone and gently placed the cord back on the bedside table ensuring that it wouldn’t start sliding before they let go.

Satisfied, the thief stuffed the device in their back pocket before sneaking around and repeating the process on the other side of the bed. Luckily, the mother’s phone was on her bedside table. Finally, some good news. Now, that both phones were obtained it was time to—

DING DONG

“ _Shit_ !” panicking, the thief dropped and attempted to roll under the bed but was stopped short of fully going under by what appeared to be boxes under the bed. “ _Shit_!”

Lying on their side, they attempted to get as much under the bed as they could; facing outward to at least get a good view. The thief could now hear the couple rousing from the noise.

DING DONG

A groan escaped from the man, “Urgh… who’s ringing the doorbell at this time of night?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” the woman mumbled, equally tired from being roused from so deep in dreamland.

The bed creaked as the parents got up from the bed, the mother’s feet inches from the thief that was hiding unbeknownst to either of them. She stayed there but a moment to rub the sleep from her eyes before she stood up.

DING DONG

“Mama, papa,” a small voice came from the direction of the door. The children must’ve been roused as well. At least there was now an excuse for the door being opened before the parents fully woke up and started realizing things were amiss. “There’s a police car outside.”

“ _Wait, what_ ?!” the burglar thought. What the hell was a cop doing here? Did a neighbor see the bag outside and actually called the police over it? Or was it the open door? “ _Dammit. I guess this is going to get bloody after all_.”

The thief repressed an aggravated sigh, “ _Oh well_ …”

The parents were clearly confused as to why a law enforcement officer was at their door so late at night. Or was it early in the morning? They couldn’t tell really. And, luckily for the intruder hiding under the bed, they were still half-asleep. Being already out of bed, they didn’t think to go back to look at their phones.

“I’ll go see what’s up,” the father said, tiredly but still with the resolve of a man of the household. “Dear, you mind?”

“Of course,” the mother said without a hint of hesitation. Then, in a softer tone clearly directed at the child at the doorway, she continued, “Come on, sweetie, let’s go back to your room.”

With that, the thief heard the parents leave with the child; the sounds of their footsteps dampening as they vanished outside the master bedroom. Quickly rolling out from under the bed, the figure who just moments ago had crept silently through the family’s abode as they slept unawares, now threw much of their earlier caution out the window. No longer subtle, though still trying to keep their noise level minimal, they rushed to the closest door and swung it open.

Thankfully, it didn’t creak. And doubly luckily, there was the DVR just sitting at the bottom of the closet next to a bunch of shoes and plastic cupboards. The cables connecting it were severed by the thief’s power before they grabbed and pulled the depowered device to their chest.

Okay, at least that was simple. Now to get out of he—

“Azusa!” cried the father’s voice from downstairs. “Get the kid’s down here now! There’s someone in the house!”

The burglar growled in frustration. How? How on earth did he know that? They knew they weren’t being as careful as before but surely that roll, slight job, and rummaging in the closest wasn’t loud enough to be noticed by him. And they certainly didn’t make as much of a scene to alert the mother and children who were on the same floor and had significantly less obstacles in the way to hear them.

Could the cops already know? But that didn’t make sense either. Certainly, they’d have made a much bigger scene if that was the case. Perhaps they were trying to be subtle so they could ambush them? It might’ve been likely the husband panicked after being told. Chalk that up to a possibility.

As predicted, the frantic pattering of feet quickly made their way downstairs; the hush, anxious voice of the mother could faintly be heard hurrying along the children in what little bit of comfort she could provide in the mindset.

“ _I tried to make this bloodless_ ,” the burglar reasoned. “ _Oh well. Time to walk straight out the backdoor before any heroes show up_. But first, the other phone.”

They rushed over to the other bedside and grabbed the portable electronic device sitting there and stuffed it into their pocket. Objective completed and now for the hard part. Getting out with the police, and potentially, a hero nearby.

Facing a Pro Hero would not necessarily mean game over for the now-caught thief. They had after all had to deal with heroes in the past. The problem with dealing with them was two-fold. First was that they were trained more so than any other person to use their Quirks outside maybe the military; and sense they were used to fighting people who also had decent to masterful use of their own Quirks they were far more likely to be capable of figuring out some way of countering the burglar’s own power.

Secondly, the death of a Pro Hero or a villain that escaped their grasp was far larger news than the death of a policeman. Some saw this as a sad reality; the thief saw this as a means to help lay low even if caught by someone. It was simple really. The less heroes got involved the less limelight they’d get.

As the burglar tried to make their exit from the room, they were abruptly halted by a shriek and the sounds of bumping and crashing from downstairs. That didn’t sound, right.

Making their way out the open door, the burglar began to creep their way down the stairs only slightly mindful of the creaking of the steps. Their ears open for any out-of-place noise, eyes peeled for any out-of-place sight. The barely audible yet quite obviously frantic rustling that appeared to be coming from the living room being the first thing the thief noticed being off after proceeding down the flight of steps.

The air of cautiousness previously demonstrated by the thief before being abandoned after they’d been discovered returned in full force as the alarm bells in the back of their mind rang out violently in the great subconscious of their mind. This didn’t parallel with any situation involving the police that they’d had prior. Something was off and that meant full focus was required.

They peered around the corner down the hall. The front door was open but there was no sign of anyone there. No one was clearly out the window or anything. The frantic shuffling could still be heard just around the corner, however, and the sounds of male voices were also becoming apparent.

The noise of whatever was down there seemed to be masking the noise the burglar was making.

“ _Good_ ,” the burglar approved silently.

In truth, the mystery only concerned them so far as it made their escape more complicated. Figuring out what was going on would help them plan to get out of there as fast as possible. Hopefully, this commotion hadn’t caused the bag full of food to be discovered and they could still get away with the supplies they needed.

Deciding it was best to make a break for it rather than give whatever was in the living time to process they were there; the burglar began a sprint and passed the living room door into the kitchen. As they passed the living room, they couldn’t help but glance to the right. What was there was, needless to say, almost enough to cause the thief to stop in their tracks. Mainly due to not quite expecting it.

In the center of the room were two figures, the parents of the home, bound and gagged and struggling fruitlessly against the strength of the bindings. The mother in tears; the father in fury. Both could do nothing. Around them stood two men garbed in what seemed to be, in the brief moment of seeing them, biker gear: Leather jackets, chains, fingerless gloves, boots, the works. The children were nowhere to be seen.

“ _Oh_ ,” the burglar thought as they hastened their speed through the kitchen and out the opened back door. A quick turn to the right confirmed the bag was still there. “ _Perfect_.”

Quickly, the thief in question opened the bag again and shoved both the DVR and the two phones into it to destroy later. Just as swiftly, they began to zip it back up—

“Well, well, well,” came a smug masculine voice behind them. “What do we have he—”

The thief didn’t even turn around to acknowledge the voice. A split second passed, their powers activated fully, followed by a split-second, high-pitched noise cut short by the wet sounds of a body being cut to two. Without waiting any longer, they grabbed the bag and booked it. Again, using their power to quickly launch over the wall and onto a nearby roof. There the thief sprinted to the edge before jumping to the street below and before stopping inches from the ground and gently dropped to the hard asphalt.

The thief waited not a second longer before taking off down the street and ducking into an alley. They paused while hiding behind the alley; waiting to hear if someone followed. No one. Slowly, the thief shifted the beanie on her head, briefly lifting the back end to allow a curtain of pinkish-red hair to fall to her shoulder blades. In doing so she also clearly revealed the ruby-red eyes on her face; both orbs cold and unconcerned with the scene they’d just witnessed. Lastly, she pulled down the scarf to reveal the young, feminine features of her face. The expression she was as hard and uncaring as her eyes. Her disguise now lifted, she began walking casually away from the street she had just ran from.

Not once did she ever look back.

* * *

Sand rolled away from the soles of her boots with every step she took on the beach. It was littered with all manner of garbage big and small. It was late in the night now and the moon was beginning to draw close to the horizon. It’s white light helping to illuminate the liter-filled stretch of sand touching the sea at its shores.

The filthy beach made the locale unattractive to most people and kept away pretty much everyone making it an ideal place to hide her small family. As she walked, the stone seriousness in her large eyes faded into a gentle smile, though the coldness had not entirely vacated her persona yet, as her thoughts turned to the two, hungry mouths that eagerly awaited her in their humble abode. 

If they were even awake, of course.

The soft sound of rustling sand was the only thing that could even remotely be heard as she trekked down the beach’s shoreline, moving in an eastwardly direction and using the cover of the mountains of garbage to hide her movements from more curious eyes. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.

She stopped amidst the sand-ridden dump site and put down her duffle bag. Opening the bag normally, without the caution demonstrated earlier that night, a took out the DVR. Confident no one was watching and thoroughly hidden by the unappealing sight of the beach, the girl grabbed the DVR out of the bag and threw it towards a nearby mountain of rubbish. The electronic shattered into several pieces mid-flight as she used her power to rip the piece of equipment apart. She repeated the process twice more with both phones, but not before getting some distance away from the previous act of vandalism to ensure a decent spread of debris. 

She smiled to herself. One more loose end dealt with. She could continue onward without any more worries.

The lone girl continued along her trek, moving around obstacles like old fridges, piles of total rubbish, and even a pickup truck, the lone girl reached the end of the beach which was an estuary. The skyline of skyscrapers hidden by a line of trees lay just up a wooden path from the litter-infested seastrand. Across the estuary was a slight continuation of the beach, albeit narrower and slightly rocky, which led up to a wall of rocks which lay just below the outermost streets that bordered the beach and the city of Musutafu.

Following the river that fed the estuary upstream briefly led the pinkette to an overpass that connected the urban settlement on one side and the more commercial-suburban side on the other. Under the overpass on the side she was currently on was the abrupt beginnings of a concrete canal which continued down the river that cut down the middle of the city. It was flat with the exception of two, trapezoidal dips that were several dozen feet wide. The area between the two dips was very narrow, allowing only enough room for a rectangular-shaped pillar of concrete to support the overpass. The platforms on outer sides of the dips were twice as large as the one in the middle.

The outer walls of the man-made canal sloped upwards at a 45 degree angle made from reinforced concrete to stabilize it and ensure streets and sidewalks didn’t inadvertently fall into the canal due to erosion. 

She came to a stop under the overpass and waited a moment. She glanced around to ensure there were no prying eyes. This place was inconspicuous, but you never knew if some random group of teenage thugs were prowling around to tag something. The overpass she was under already had a few painted marks on it.

Satisfied, she turned her attention to the angled wall that connected the overpass and the floor under her feet. What might’ve surely been an odd sight to see to any outward observer was a gray tarp stretched out over a good portion of the structure with a few slashes in various parts of it. Turns out, however, that placing a few identical tarps in different locations happened to function pretty well as a deterrent. People who see something odd more than once are less likely to be suspicious of it if it is innocuous enough; especially when said odd thing is in a place most people don’t consider anyway.

She approached the tarp or more specifically a slash on the upper right side just out of the way enough to be inconvenient to disturb. 

Inconvenience. Such a simple but effective deterrent.

She crept up quietly, using her powers to hold the duffle bag behind her as she quietly slipped into a hole in the concrete through the slit in the tarp. Outside, not a soul would’ve even been able to notice such a place existed.

The underground abode was simple, grimy, but quaint in its own way. The only light within was a dim haze of pale light originating from the moon so it took a few moments for the red-haired girl’s eyes to adjust to seeing within the underground hovel. With the concrete above as a ceiling, a space in the shape of a malformed circle stretched roughly nine meters in diameter. The bumpy, stone terrain that made up the floor was cushioned by several blankets starting roughly a meter away from the entrance and, upon entering, the girl turned and sat down on the covered portion on the floor. She proceeded to remove her boots and place them next to a couple others on the dirt near the opening. A pair of tennis shoes and sandals that were about her shoe size were there as well as a couple pairs of sneakers that were both smaller in size.

Looking from the entrance, one could see up against the left ‘wall’ were several bags of stashed supplies. Two duffle bags identical to the one the girl still carried and three, clear trash bags each contain a various assortment of clothing. Two of the bags of clothing were only a quarter full in regards to the bags full capacity while the third was well over halfway. On the right side were three rows of pillows with accompanying blankets. Two of these rows were currently occupied by two shapes of unequal size under the blankets with both being smaller than the crimson-eyed girl.

The previous, cold expression melted from her face and her entire demeanor shifted from stern and defensive to friendly and warm. Her eyes seemed larger and more innocent, her face held a visage of affection, and the noises that squeaked passed her lips seemed softer than they had previously. It was as if an entirely different person had taken control over her body.

Having removed her boots, she walked over to the assortment of bags before carefully placing her own duffle bag down as not to cause a sound. Afterward, she began removing the garments she was wearing. Firstly, the beanie was removed revealing what might’ve been a very peculiar sight a few centuries before. Sticking out of the sides of her head, right behind her temples, were a pair of bone-colored protrusions in the shape of flattened, cat ears. Regardless of the time period, they were an identifying mark that she thought best to keep hidden.

Lethargically, she continued with her undressing removing her scarf, jacket, shirt, and pants adding them to the clothing inside the bag that was most full. In the minimal light provided by the entrance one could just make out her petite yet feminine figure standing in naught but her undergarments. She let loose a quiet, drowsy sigh, regarding the other two occupants of the space before climbing next to them under the vacant row of blankets. Sleep began claiming her the moment her head hit the pillow. It was a feeling she embraced eagerly.

The last thing she observed before slumber finally took them was the slight movement of the blankets as the two, child-like figures slept comfortably in this dingy but homely place.

* * *

A man approached the scene with a jaunt of purpose in his step. His baggy, black eyes and unkempt, black hair betrayed his weariness. His light mustache and mild facial stubble might’ve also had he not preferred his facial hair’s current style. He was dressed in a black long-sleeve and pants connected as a singular piece of clothing. A gray belt fitting snugly around his waster with the belt loops being attached to the outfit in question. The bottom of the pant leg was cuffed by metal bands that reached the top of his black shoes with similar bands being attached at the wrist portion of the sleeves. Around his neck, wrapped several times like a cloth, was a metallic-looking band. Atop his head, being the only item of color in his entire outfit, was a pair of yellow goggles that had holes in the eyes akin to the visor of a medieval knight though larger in size.

Several police cars and a crime scene forensics van had already set up shop around the home by the time he managed to arrive. It was near morning and, hoping to get at least some sleep before the day started, he’d gotten ready to turn in when he received the call. The whole situation left a bad taste in his mouth. It’d been the fourth murder/kidnapping of its kind in the past couple of months and the fact that it’d happened on his watch didn’t suit well with him at all.

Already a small crowd had begun to converge at the edge of the taped-off zone. Worried neighbors dressed in clothing more suitable for sleeping rather than the frigid, cold air lined up wondering what had happened to a family that had been so close to many of them. They respected the badge’s authority, however, and did not press further in spite of their clear eagerness to know the status of those who lived in the house. The uniformed police officer, who had the interesting distinction of having a feline head, noticed the approaching figure and silently motioned him into the crime scene.

Nodding in recognition, he moved with purpose into the house noting that the hinges of the door had been knocked askew. No questions as to how they got in at least.

The noise of conversation was to the right upon entering the household and thus angled his course that direction. The hallway split in two directions directly ahead immediately into two different rooms. He looked both ways upon reaching the crossroads to get a better idea of the situation. Either direction proved gruesome to look at.

Left provided a view of a bloody mess of a corpse hunched partially outside a sliding glass door with only a small kitchen between himself and the red liquid that had been violently splattered around. Right provided the view he had hoped he would not be seeing: a young man and woman, dressed only in night clothes, bound and gagged with skulls bashed in by a single blow each. Blood dripping down from large gashes in their partially-collapsed skulls soaking them in a puddle of their own blood. The only good thing he could utter about the sight was that at least the murdering blow would’ve been painless.

Noticing the man he’d been searching for standing near the murdered couple, he approached carefully as to not disturb the crime scene. The man was tall and refined with slicked-back, short, black hair, dark eyes, and a plain face. He wore nice shoes along with dark, dress pants with a white, collared shirt and tie. Over this dressy attire was probably one of the most recognizable outfits in law enforcement as the coat and hat of a detective could hardly be mistaken for anything else. 

“Detective Tsukauchi,” a gruff voice came from the man who’d just entered the scene.

The detective immediately turned around to face the person who’d called for him. Recognition etched his face instantly as a relief breath escaped his lips, “Ah, Eraserhead. Perfect timing.”

“So,” the Pro Hero sighed. “Another one, huh?”

Tsukauchi nodded grimly, “Unfortunately.”

“The fourth one...”

“Yes,” the detective confirmed. “Although, we definitely have a lead this time.”

Eraserhead grunted, “You mean that bloody mess in the other room?”

“It appears to be one of the assailants.”

That got the hero’s attention as he turned to make his way over to the other body. The detective following right behind him. The remains of the so-called assailant were a lot worse to see up close. Blood was splattered across the wall and floor from whatever cut this poor fool in half at the waist. His legs had been sent into the wall next to the sliding glass door; the impact clearly had been made after the torso had been separated from it. The torso was off further into the small backyard appearing to have struck the wall and knocked casually away by the sheer force of whatever dismembered them. Pieces of internal organ and entrails were strewn about.

Eraserhead had been doing this job for a long time and had seen many murder scenes, but he could honestly say he’d never come across something quite so brutal. He held his stomach firm despite its misgivings about the sight, “It looks like something out of a damned horror movie.”

“I know,” Tsukauchi replied with an equal amount of disgust. “Which is why I don’t think anyone in the family did it.”

“I don’t know,” Eraserhead responded unsure. “Desperate people using their quirks untrained to defend themselves can leave quite a mess.”

“Right, but no one in the family has quirks that could do this kind of damage.”

The hero looked at him expectantly, causing the detective to elaborate, “According to neighbors, the family’s quirks were primarily paper-based and were definitely not strong enough to do... this...”

“In-fighting between the kidnappers?”

“Possible.”

The hero begins looking around trying to find something to distract his mind from the horrific sight next to him. In doing so, he notes something in the corner just innocuous enough to not be immediately noticeable.

“A camera?”

“We’ve noticed a few of them around the house. They’re wireless, but I don’t know if they’re being sent off-site.”

“Let’s hope it does so we can figure out what the hell happened here.”


	2. The Day After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one survive in a world that seems to always be out to get you? How do you survive in a world where you trust no one? How do you survive in a world in which you are its natural enemy destined to overtake those that reign?
> 
> So powerful, yet so helpless. A river might be mighty amongst the streams, but it could not possibly overthrow the ocean.
> 
> Hiding seemed like a good option. Hide away from their eyes. The eyes of the tormentors. But in a place so comparatively small in the world it was only inevitable that hiding wouldn't work forever.
> 
> Thankfully, not everyone seems to know the game being played. And it could make all the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for joining me again for the second chapter. I'm still rather new to operating on Archive of Our Own so if you think certain tags should be added or having other suggestions regarding formating please let me know. I'd appreciate the feedback.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy chapter 2!

Eraserhead groaned in irritation, his palm pinching the bridge of his nose, but neither of these actions could properly convey his level of frustration at the news, “The cameras don’t have off-site monitoring despite having wireless capability. In addition to that, the DVR and parents’ phones are missing, too?”

“Unfortunately,” Tsukauchi sighed in a tone that exemplified his own irritation. “So those cameras were useless in the end.”

It was mid-morning now and the sun was already rising high. No rest for the wicked it seemed. He was still up despite his body’s misgivings regarding the situation. And it certainly had a lot of that.

They were currently in the detective’s office back at the station. It was a simple sideroom box in the station, a sort of standard-issue for the senior detectives on the force, with windowed walls that revealed the rest of the station near him. His office was off to the side, away from the desks of many of the other officers. The hero was currently leaning against one of the window sills implanted into the wall while the detective himself sat behind his desk in a comfy-looking office chair.

The hero couldn’t help but withhold another sigh. He wanted to be angry at the family. He really did. It was such a simple thing and, if they had, they’d have an easier time tracking their killers. Regardless, it was bad form to think ill of the dead. It’s not like the cameras would have prevented this anyway. Besides, the real people at fault were the murderers themselves, not the victims of such a horrendous crime.

“Despite lack of video evidence, this does tell us something,” the detective said in a way that suggested he was confident of the deduction though he didn’t like it. The pro hero was on the same wavelength.

“This was professionally done.”

“That part was,” The sleuth paused briefly before continuing. “But there’s something just... odd about the whole thing.”

Eraserhead binked, “What do you mean?”

“There had clearly been more than one assailant. In addition, some altercation took place that had resulted in one of them being murdered, quite brutally as well. I’m no behavioral analysis expert, but typically murders that take place in such close proximity that are that violent, there’s some sort of personal vendetta involved.”

“Like when a snitch is discovered.”

He nodded, “Correct.”

“I don’t know,” Eraserhead said tiredly. “This seems rather abrupt for something like that. Traitors aren’t usually just killed on the spot like that even in criminal organizations. It’s a planned out event.”

“To see the traitor suffer,” the detective responded knowingly. “To set an example.”

“Right.”

“So either the victim and murderer were close enough that discovering treason warranted a quick, violent response or this was a spur of the moment action.”

“If it was the latter, then it could only have been the two people involved. A violent, spur-of-the-moment murder like that to a colleague doesn’t do much for unit cohesion.”

Tsukauchi nodded in understanding. It made sense but something was just nagging at him. Something about that explanation just didn’t add up. The cogs of his mind were turning. The facts of the situation just didn’t seem to fit well enough to satisfy him.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The slight knock on the window of his door knocked him out of his musings. Through the thin glass, he could see one of his blue-uniformed colleagues with several folders respectfully waiting to be allowed in. 

Tsukauchi motioned him in.

“Morning, detective, Eraserhead,” the policeman said as he entered. Earning a nod from the pro hero in recognition to the greeting.

“Morning,” he replied. “What do you have there?”

“Initial reports from forensics regarding the scene.”

“Ah, thank you,” the detective replied gratefully as he took the folders from the policeman, who nodded his head before leaving to return to his duties.

As the policeman left, Eraserhead stood up from his leaning position, “I think I’m going to head out as well. I’m already late enough as it is.”

“I’ll inform you if anything else turns up,” the detective smiled with gratitude. He was certainly thankful that he could rely on some heroes to bounce ideas off of. Their perspective was always appreciated even if it wasn’t quite their field.

With that, the hero left the office leaving the direction of the investigation in the hands of the young man behind the desk. Tired yet still restless, the young investigator got to work reading through the reports.

* * *

To say her morning began abruptly would be a rather large understatement. She had been lost in the serenity of dreamland and at some point in the night had casually rolled over onto her back providing a prime target for a not-so-small object to hurl itself right onto her stomach. Instantly, her body went from enjoying the daze of dreams to jolting in awareness as her body suddenly lost the ability to inhale.

“Mama! Mama!” 

She struggled to find her voice as her body struggled to regain the oxygen it was so desperately trying and failing to inhale. Looking down at the offending mass currently restricting her ability to suck in air, she couldn’t help but sigh out of a smile she couldn’t quite hold back.

She leaned up in her makeshift bed, the mass on her body sliding down into her lap as she did, enough to allow her to cradle it in her arms affectionately.

The figure was a relatively small girl in nothing but her underwear who, if standing, would only reach just under 92 cm high. Her skin, as pale as her supposed mother, was slightly pudgy and appeared smooth; a hint to her incredibly young age. Her ruby-hued eyes looked up to her both figuratively and literally in wonderment and adoration; their look matched only by the wide smile she wore without reservation. 

Her hair was on the longer side. Not quite as long as her mother’s, but still quite long though the strands coming from either side of her in front of her ears only came down to the sides of her face. Also, unlike her mother, whose hair curved at the end, its ends were straight, cut in a line with a pair of scissors. The same could be said for her bangs that were cut above her eyes. Her mother meanwhile had bangs that had clearly not been cut in quite some time partially covering her eyes. Seemingly matching her personality, the little child’s hair color was also much brighter than her forebearer, being a light pink - almost bubblegum - color.

The true testament to their connection was what resided behind her temples just peeking out from the mess of hair resting below the crown of her head. A small pair of tiny horns that appeared, to any outside witness, to hold the appearance of ceramic cat ears.

Despite the unforeseen act of awakening that the little child had unempathetically, even cheerfully, performed, the girl could not help but smile affectionately in return, much to the little one’s joy.

“Mariko, what have I told you about jumping on me while I’m sleepy?” She playfully chastised. The child’s response was to giggle cutely.

“To not to!”

Her smile widened, “Then why did you do it?”

“‘Cuz your face is funny, Mama!” she exclaimed reaching both her hands to the ceiling to exemplify her happiness. The older girl couldn’t help but giggle in turn as she shook her head.

A tired, soft groan caught the attention of the playfulness of the mother and daughter duo, “Hm... Mommy... too loud... still... sleepy...”

The older girl’s smile shrunk a little, losing none of its previous luster. Slowly, in a feat only visible to the three occupants of the hole-in-the-wall abode, the ethereal tips of an invisible hand emerged from the older girl’s back. These tips, as they sprouted further, revealed fingers which in turn revealed a hand which then in turn revealed a wrist. After the wrist, however, all that followed was a seemingly-never ending arm that had no joints and was as malleable as rubber. Gently, the hand cradled the head from where the groan emerged, the malleable arm wrapping under the small figure, and gradually carried what revealed to be another small child up next to her side. The child, almost instinctively, nuzzled into her for warmth and comfort.

Like her sister and mother, the girl was pale dressed in nothing but her underwear. The reason for this, primarily, was due to their living situation. While they adored the secret home they made for themselves, that didn’t mean the conditions were pristine. Far from it. It was stuffy and congested. Not to mention it was well insulated. While that was a blessing during the cold months that drew ever closer, it also made the small place sometimes uncomfortably warm. Secondarily, it was just something that they were used to having to scavenge for clothes to survive and that didn’t necessarily mean there’d be something available that’d be comfortable for sleeping in. It was just simpler this way. And thirdly, well, it saved on laundry, which was not as simple of a task for them as it would have been for most families.

The girl that was now using her mother as an oversized Teddy bear was clearly older than her sister, appearing to be twice as old. She was still small compared to her mother, being barely 20 cm taller than the tiniest member of their family. Skin tone and body structure wise, she was pretty much the same; though unlike either of them she kept her hair, which was a darker, more purplish shade of pink, short enough that not but a hair made it past her head. Two horns, the same in shape and appearance, stuck out of her head. One of them was unintentionally poking her mother in the arm in a position that was likely to be uncomfortable, but said parental figure displayed no discomfort to her children. At least outwardly.

She placed her free hand upon the head of her older child, soothingly rubbing her scalp while her thumb gently caressed the short bangs on her forehead. She unconsciously and ever so slightly nuzzled the palm in return as she silently enjoyed the feeling of her mother’s touch.

The serenity of this scene, however, was sadly doomed to die quite earlier than either of them would’ve like.

“Nana!” Mariko whined childishly. “Come one! It’s morning!”

She hopped off her place in her mother’s lap and quickly crawled over to her big sister. She then rudely proceeded to jerk her as hard as a child of around three years of age could, “Wakey! Wakey!”

Nana groaned in irritation as she resisted the motion, “Stop, Mariko!”

“Mariko,” her mother said, attempting to scold her youngest daughter, though the sternness of the command was overpowered by the gentleness that still ruled over her voice. “Stop it. That’s rude.”

The hypocrisy of it all was not lost on her considering what had just transpired just a moment ago. Her being okay with said ‘rudeness’ when directed towards her likely sent strange signals to the little girl, but she couldn’t help it. It was just so difficult. She just had so little experience being a mother. She really wasn’t even entirely sure what she was supposed to do. The most she’d been able to gather had been by observing the humans outside and that had been purely out of desperation.

Her eyes darkened at the thought. It was such an illusion. The kindness and generosity they showed... it wasn’t real. She had seen behind the mask to know that much. That monster that laid beneath. She had stared it down time and time again. So perhaps they weren’t the best examples to draw from. The only reason she did so was because the mask, while just a mask, was a very beautiful one. It was something worth emulating; even it was used to hide something so terrible.

Slowly, the kind, innocent visage of the mother morphed into something far colder and more withdrawn. Almost becoming a completely different person in the process as her thought process delved ever deeper down a path it really didn’t want to tread: Humanity. More specifically, humanity giving her something positive.

True, the idea of emulating the mask had been beneficial. Even still, it was sickening to think. All that pomp and circumstance of ‘modern civilization’. Their arrogance to assume themselves all high and mighty, so just and moral. Were they seriously so blind to their own hypocrisy? To their own obscenity? They even had the absolute gall to have a whole group of people who called themselves ‘heroes’. Heroes. As if anyone could simply proclaim themselves to have that title and still be one. She couldn’t help but ponder how many generations it would be until their influence was either forgotten or flayed to reveal the true nastiness that lay underneath.

She had seen heroes. They had watched her. They helped put her in a cage and watched her suffer. And humanity itself was no different. She wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t deaf or dull as those pathetic scientists claimed she was. What kind of oxymoron was that? According to them, she was supposed to be their greatest threat. A ‘threat to the survival of humanity’. But they toyed with her; poked, prodded, testing any reaction, learning everything they could. They kept her alive and now....

She was not foolish. She knew her predicament. She couldn’t cry for help. They wouldn’t help her. No one would. She’d be the epicenter of the fear and hatred of an unruly mob hellbent on her destruction if they knew what she was. What they were. And those fools wouldn’t dare reveal that information to the general public. They may have escaped the cage, but they weren’t free. It was their world and she was their enemy. They’d never truly be safe. 

They would find her eventually. They would come for her. Her and her children. Her children. No. She wouldn’t... She wouldn’t allow it! She would be DAMNED if she let them touch a SINGLE HAIR ON--

“Mama?” The frightened tone of her youngest instantly snapped her mind out of the dark path it had been slipping down. Her head snapped downward only to notice two pairs of scared eyes staring back. Unlike Mariko, Nana’s eyes were very much the same dark tone as hers although they darkened more towards purple than her red.

Apparently, the argument brewing between the sisters ceased the moment Mariko had looked up to complain to her mother. Seeing her mother’s darkening expression, she could only shrink in fright. And this reaction was enough to get Nana to wake up and see what was troubling Mariko. This only resulted in her having the exact same reaction.

This disturbed her, ‘ _When did I--_?’

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Mariko sniffled, a tremble present in her voice. “I won’t do it anymore...”

“I’ll wake up sooner,” came Nana’s equally submissive whisper. “Don’t be mad... please...”

The frightened plea broke the young mother. Her mind was furiously screaming at her, demanding to know what she’d done and to do something - to do anything - to allay their fears. Slowly, she leaned down and wrapped her arms around them, one around each child, and brought them close to her. She felt them stiffen at the motion, but they offered no resistance. 

Softly, she rubbed their backs in a comforting motion in an attempt to soothe their troubled minds. She musters all her luster and utters in an almost angelic whisper, “Shh, it’s okay. Mommy’s sorry she got angry. I wasn’t mad at you. It’s okay.”

The sounds of sniffles being cleared echoed in her ears as Mariko weakly asked, “Really?”

She moved to hold them out a bit so that her face was only a foot or so away from their teary-eyed ones. The mother of two brought her arms from behind them to cup both of their faces, using her thumb to wipe away tears.

“Really,” she said, struggling to hold back tears herself at the emotional moment caused by inadvertently bringing her children distress. But despite how emotional she was she fought them back. She had to be strong for them. To alleviate their fears.

“We don’t like scary-mommy,” Nana said quietly. Their mother winced at the name.

‘Scary Mommy’ had been the epitaph bestowed upon an alternate side of herself that she had been completely unaware of until the girls pointed it out to her. A side that was withdrawn, cold, and brooding. A part of her that felt such an overwhelming hatred for their situation and the humans. But she for the life of her couldn’t quite understand why. She knew that the humans had done _something_ to her, but she didn’t know what that was. It apparently had been terrible enough to be locked away in such a malignant form.

It was strange though. She held vague images of everything that had occurred while under the control of her ‘alter ego’, almost as if she had performed the acts personally, but she never realized she had lost control to some other part of her. Was it that ingrained in her? She didn’t know. Either way, while she learned to accept it over the last few months - that side of her was the whole reason they were surviving after all - she didn’t like how her children thought of that side of her.

Relaxing herself, she donned an adorable expression: a slightly tilted head and a radiant smile. This by itself seemed to break them of their melancholy stupor as their minds had already known the action that was following it. And not to disappoint the little ones, a faint, cute noise broke past their mother’s smiling lips, “Nyu.”

It was something so simple, but there was just something about it that always seemed to work in brightening the spirits of her daughters. And this time was no exception to that. They lunged forward burying their faces into her bare stomach. The young mother only wrapped her arms around them again to console them; the daughters returned the gesture in kind.

“We love you, mommy,” Nana’s muffled voice reverberated through her skin, sending her the heart of her parent aflutter.

“Yeah,” Mariko added, looking up to look at her face again. “We like fun-mama better!”

‘Fun-mama’ couldn’t help but laugh at the now lightened mood, “So do I.”

Mariko’s adorable smile widened at the response before returning her face into her mama’s stomach.

If there were outside observers, it would’ve been a beautiful moment to witness. At least until the moment was shattered by the sound of a stomach growling.

“Er... mommy...” Nana uttered, very embarrassed. “I’m hungry.”

Her mother giggled, “Of course, let’s get you something to eat. I believe I got something for you yesterday.”

* * *

Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa rubbed his face as he suppressed a yawn in his throat. The exhaustion from lacking sleep was forcing itself to be displayed full force reminding him just how long he’d been awake. He scanned the documents he’d received earlier that day yet again. It was mid-afternoon now and the initial report pretty much summed up most of what he already knew about the previous night’s murder-kidnapping.

More than one criminal had broken through the front door causing one of the hinges to break off. There was a brief struggle resulting in three children being snatched and the parents bound and gagged in the living room before being killed by a fatal blow to the head. In addition to that, some sort of altercation occurred resulting in the horrifically brutal death of one of the villains involved in the crime. It was a death so brutal that the noise from the body smashing against a part of the house after it had been dismembered is what awoke a nearby neighbor that something had happened. A part of him ached for the poor, distraught woman who made the call to them. It was hard enough to see that despite all his experience and at the very least being prepared to see a dead body due to the call. To see that without any preparation at the house of a beloved neighbor was just... he dared not imagine.

Hopefully, this criminal would give them the lead they so desperately needed to finally bring those responsible for these crimes to justice and bring at least some solace to the victims’ families.

So, he decided to focus his effort on the third murder: the criminal. The conclusion that the Underground Hero: Eraserhead and himself had come to earlier that morning had been that some sort of altercation had taken place between two of the criminals around the time the parents were murdered. They had no leads as to what but due to the level of violence involved in the actual killing, especially when compared to the minimalist nature of the other murders involved in the other four cases, they believe this was likely in response to a betrayal either so egregious or the perpetrator was so close and trust that it demanded such a response. It all pieced together but...

Sighing to himself, he rose from his chair and made his way out of his small office. He passed by several officers, who all greeted him respectfully, before making his way to the small lounge area on the side of the station. He needed coffee. There was only one other officer present in the lounge who kindly stepped out of the detective’s way as he made a beeline for the coffeemaker. He set up the brewer with a bag of coffee grounds and waited for the machine to process the order. The sound of bubbling within was only minor white noise to the young sleuth who was still trying to piece together the puzzle of what had happened last night. What part was he missing? He knew something was off. He just needed to find the right question.

He turned to the officer who he’d passed while entering the room. The man, who looked like a new recruit due to his youthful appearance, acknowledged him respectfully, “Yes, sir? Can I be of assistance?”

“Yes, actually,” Tsukauchi said in a friendly manner though still holding the stern tone of a superior. “You know the murder/kidnapping cases?”

“Yes, sir. Doubt there’s an officer in the department who isn’t.”

“Good. Can you bring me the files of the first three crimes? Ones that specifically go over the state the scenes were in - details about the houses, initial discovery - things like that?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll grab them right now. Do you want me to leave them on your desk?”

“I should be back in there in a moment. Just need something to keep my insomnia active.”

“Don’t we all, sir?”

The two men chuckled a bit at the joke before the cop left to grab the documents that Tsukauchi needed. It was about this time that the coffee started pouring into the mug he’d placed under the spout of the machine. He finished making the ‘Monday-survival’ drink and made his way back to his office.

It was almost a half an hour later before the policeman arrived to deliver the documents, “I apologize for that. The evidence custodian tried to slip out the backdoor when I tried to check out the case files.”

The detective shook his head knowingly, “Not too surprised. Thank you for the effort.”

“No problem, sir,” he politely said, before adding. “Best of luck. Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

With that, he left. The detective couldn’t help but sigh to himself, quietly uttering, “So do I...”

He’d spend the next couple of hours looking over the reports. Whether it was due to sleep deprivation or his own inattentiveness - he couldn’t tell which - but he couldn’t find anything that really had stood out to him. It didn’t help that the files, while very informative, were a bore to read. It didn’t help that he had helped write some of it so had already seen them several times. All this drained whatever energy he had left in him and not even the miracle drink that was coffee could help him this time. Finally, the tiredness of the long day and night overpowered him. He could barely think correctly with how little sleep he’d gotten. A heavy breath rumbled out of his body and with a heart as equally weighed down he gathered his belongings to leave for the day.

As he got ready to leave, he grabbed the files to store away in his office out of sight. He’d have to inform the evidence custodian about it. With any luck, he’d catch him before he snuck out the backdoor agai--

“Wait a minute...” Detective Tsukauchi said. Suddenly a wave of clarity washed over him like a tidal wave. His mind and body suddenly felt renewed with vigor as he slammed the files down on his desk. Frantically he searched for the file he was looking for as if racing his brain to ensure that the spark of enlightenment did not fade before he got the information he was looking for.

The moment he found the file he’d been searching for - the initial report regarding fourth murder/kidnapping that he’d received that very morning - and swung the file open fast enough to nearly send the paper contents flying had they not been pinned in place. He scanned page after page until he found what he was looking for. Under the part discussing the third murder, there were a few notes made about the backdoor as it was found.

  1. It had been opened prior to the murder being committed, as evidenced by the blood splatter.
  2. No foreign fingerprints on the doorknob were found meaning no villain opened the door, at least by hand. There were also no indications that anyone but the family who lived in the house had touched the doorknob at all.
  3. The door had been virtually undamaged with only the slightest hint of anything happening after the murder had already taken place.



In other words, someone - at the point, likely a family member - had opened the door. It had not been breached like the front door had. But why?

He then proceeded to scan through the files for the previous, three cases looking for any information that would support this type of behavior from this group. In the back of his mind, he already knew the answer. He’d been over these files dozens of times before, but he had to be sure.

Nothing. Not a single thing that even remotely resembled this kind of behavior and nothing to indicate someone had a quirk capable of doing this kind of damage. What the forensics team had written about the brutal attack had been foreboding:

_‘The force of the blood splatter, the distance the body was launched, and the cleanness of the cut indicated that this was done by an immensely sharp, blade-like object moving at immense speeds. Speeds so great that the blood splatter’s projected velocity is akin to ones that result from gunshot wounds.’_

He knew that was a power he would have seen already once before. The third murder did not fit at all with the modus operandi of these criminals up to this point. They were professional and very efficient. It wouldn’t make sense for them to botch a job this badly even over something that brings out as much hatred and fury as treason. Something else was going on here.

Quickly, he stored the files and grabbed the keys to his car. He had to get back to the crime scene and look it over one last time. Sleep was for the dead.

* * *

The sun burned brightly casting rays over the city through partially cloudy skies and gentle winds. It sat a good distance past the halfway point on its journey over the horizon though it was still too early to consider it even close to evening yet.

Three figures approached an apartment complex deep in the eastern suburban area of Musutafu. It was a six-story, three-building complex with each floor being lined with rows of doors and windows in a specific sequence with the exception of the bottom floor of the central building. Each building had a large, English letter printed boldly above the top floor’s rightmost windows facing the street with the building that held the letter ‘A’ having a four digit number printed in a larger font on the opposite side of the building’s face. The central bottom floor had an office and reception area along with vending machines and a large room filled with washing machines and dryers. On one side, attached to the complex, was a parking lot with spaces each having a number printed in the middle of them.

The middle person was the pink-haired mother of Nana and Mariko. She was dressed simply in a blue beanie to hide her horns as well as jacket, a white t-shirt, and jeans along with a set of ordinary tennis shoes. Strapped over one shoulder was one of the other duffle bags she had in her abode. Her eyes were sharp and threatening gazing harshly at anyone who got too close to her. No one did. Her cold demeanor was off-putting to most people.

Her children on the other hand were much more upbeat, especially the youngest. While they dubbed this fierce version of their parental caretaker as their ‘Scary-Mother’, the truth was that they only didn’t like it when it was aimed at them. Mariko in particular loved watching people react with unease, anxiousness, and even fear to her mother’s stern gaze. They all made such funny faces when they saw ‘Scary-Mama’ after all. She couldn’t help but giggle at their expense every time it happened. If her mother wasn’t so focused on ensuring the populace steered clear of them, she might’ve smiled alongside her daughter.

Speaking of the littlest member of the female, horned family, she was dressed in a long, blue-colored skirt and white shirt imprinted with small flowers. She was also wearing a purplish jacket that was unzipped unlike her parent’s in addition to the small-sized tennis shoes on her feet. In her hair were a pair of sky-blue ribbons tied perfectly to obscure the view of the tiny horns upon her bubblegum-matted head. She walked side by side right next to her mother with her tiny, right hand clutching the larger girl’s left.

The older of the two daughters, while still cheerful now that she was fully awake, held back next to her mother’s arm with a comforting hand in place atop the shoulder farthest from her. This contrasted with her sister who seemed content to loosely tug at the grip she held with their mama to gaze curiously at something. Nana was dressed in a dark blue dyed, long dress that had a light blue line near the bottom hem. Like her sister, she wore a jacket that was purplish in color though had it zipped up like her mother had. She was wearing tennis shoes along with the same type of ribbons on her head that Mariko was wearing to hide her horns.

The young mother guided her children into the apartment complex. A couple of tenants passed by them paying them little to no mind at all. It was expected as simply assumed they were tenants themselves or were considering becoming residents of the complex themselves. The mother’s rather young appearance didn’t faze them, or at the very least they didn’t pay attention to them enough for them to consider her age odd. Even considering that the bizarre group consisted of a young teenager and two, little children no one seemed to bother questioning it.

Casually, in a manner that most would assume as familiarity, she guided her children up the laundromat of the complex and reached into her pocket. Letting go of her children for a moment, she pulled out a plain-looking wallet. The wallet had been easy to come by having pickpocketed several people over the past few months. With her power it was relatively simple to do and even if she was caught it was much harder to pinpoint her as the culprit since she was a good distance away. She saved this wallet for personal use to hold some of the money she’d stolen as well as the item she was about to use. 

The door to the laundromat had a slot to insert a card in which allowed entry into the room. All the rooms had one and none of them would open without the card, so it was easy to put two and two together as to its importance. So, when she - by happenstance - found a similar looking card in one of the wallets she snatched from an unsuspecting passerby she knew what could be done. While it didn’t work in opening the door, as it turned out the card was only needed to enter the room and not exit it. 

So, she pulled out the stolen card from one of the sleeves in the wallet and inserted it into the slot on the door. As she did so an ethereal arm sprouted from her back towards the door. The invisible hand passed through the door effortlessly and grasped the handle. She then pulled out the card causing the device to flash red indicating the device didn’t recognize the card. It didn’t matter though as she reached out her free hand to grab the door handle. She made the motion to turn it simultaneously with her invisible hand on the other side of the door. This ruse would ensure that anyone observing her wouldn’t be suspicious by her opening the door without a card. They would simply assume she lived here and leave her be.

The door opened without any trouble and confidently strode in knowing that no one was any the wiser. She did hear a couple of snickers from below her. It was clear her kids found this amusing. While she could relate to the elation of pulling of a trick subtly was key. She gave the children a stern eye causing them to instantly quiet themselves.

‘ _At least they can follow nonverbal directions_ ,’ she thought to herself, feeling the slightest bit sad at having to be so coldly stern with her children. She knew that her children preferred her other self due to this and that even that side of her had mixed feelings about it. Even so, it was necessary. During previous outings, she’d been clear with them - as much as she could given their age - that while they were out, they needed to follow her instructions. With the dangers involved being public she had little other choice than be strict.

She could have refused their pleas to come with her. They’d be safe. But they wouldn’t be taken care of and likely get stir-crazy. This could easily lead to them venturing off on their own and following into unsavory hands and under no circumstances would she allow that to happen. Besides, despite their age they were smart and she liked to think she was as responsible a parent as she could be given the circumstances.

She made her way to the set of washing machines furthest from the door and began to set up what she needed. Truth be told she didn’t quite understand a lot of the logic behind it based on her observations. Her vague memories of her early childhood when she constantly had clean clothes and just the nice feeling and smelling after washing them were reason enough to try to figure it out however. But, via observation, she understood enough. Setting her duffle bag down, she unzipped it and began taking out the plastic bag from her home that had been mostly full along with a couple small packs that contained two different colors of substance within them.

She could hear the sounds of her children playing a game behind her as she loaded in the filthy clothing and prepared to put the packs inside the machine...

Suddenly, the instinctual feeling in the back of her head that someone was watching her kicked in, and she immediately stopped what she was doing and looked out the window. Beyond the rows of white machines and wooden counters, beyond the wide window of the room, she saw the small, open grass field between the building she was currently in and the one opposite her.

Her gaze shifted left.

Right.

Left.

Nothing...

Nothing and yet the alarm bells were still ringing in her head. Following her instincts, she moved to retrieve the items she had just put away to be clean only for the strange feeling to disappear. Mostly. She still felt a dreadful sense of unease. 

Her eyes shifted to her children, who had ceased with their game to gaze up at their guardian at having responded so suddenly and defensively. A feeling of nausea began to fill her. She was worried for her children more than anything.

Silently, she turned to finish her preparations and started the machine. She hastily zipped up and picked up her duffle bag before walking towards the door, “Come on. We’re going for a walk.”

“Mama,” Mariko said hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

She stopped briefly to glance at them. Both wore expressions of worry upon their faces clearly unnerved by the suddenness of it all.

“Hopefully, nothing, but I want to make sure.”

With that, the family hastily moved out and away from the complex, ever cautious of their surroundings. In spite of this, however, they still failed to notice the literal shadow that was following them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, the diclonii have been slightly de-aged a bit. I did this using the best estimations I could gather since Nana is the only one of the three who's age I could fine documented. As for Kaede and Mariko I based it off anime designs of other characters of certain ages and off of logical deduction by researching the age of other characters in Elfen Lied. The major difference with Mariko and Nana being due to aging twice as fast due to them being Silpelit.
> 
> That's the logic behind that decision.


	3. A Bloody Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one survive in a world that seems to always be out to get you? How do you survive in a world where you trust no one? How do you survive in a world in which you are its natural enemy destined to overtake those that reign?
> 
> So powerful, yet so helpless. A river might be mighty amongst the streams, but it could not possibly overthrow the ocean.
> 
> Hiding seemed like a good option. Hide away from their eyes. The eyes of the tormentors. But in a place so comparatively small in the world it was only inevitable that hiding wouldn't work forever.
> 
> Thankfully, not everyone seems to know the game being played. And it could make all the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy this new chapter!
> 
> Also, I went back through chapter 2 and fixed some errors. Please let me know if you find anything else.

The young mother briskly made her way down the street away from the apartment complex she’d left her clothes to wash in followed hastily by her two children. As her children would have exclaimed, had they not been so unnerved by their mother’s bizarre behavior, Scary-Mama was in full effect. If she had been cautiously evil-eyeing every person on the street before, she had - for all intents and purposes - created a barrier between everyone and their little family through the sheer hatred of her glare. She was constantly searching. Her instincts were screaming at her that something was amiss. And by now she knew very well to trust those instincts.

Unbeknownst to the trio, following behind them was a black form jumping from shadow to shadow on the pavement. Appearing as no more than a 2D image, the few people who did notice the shape could only blink to surprise before disregarding it as a trick of the eyes in the unsureness of what they had witnessed.

The flat figure silently stalked its quarry like a vicious predator. Waiting. Watching.

This went unnoticed by the wary mother as she continued along. People on the streets wisely got out of her way to avoid an unwanted confrontation with the three girls. To many, something appeared to be wrong; she was moving at a pace that indicated urgency. Perhaps they should… no they weren’t heroes. It simply wasn’t their place.

Despite moving away from the location where her instincts began warning her of something amiss, her feelings had gotten only more alarming. Due to this, she could only come to one conclusion:

Someone was following them.

She gritted her teeth in anger and frustration. Who could’ve been interested in them? Potentially, hundreds of answers existed. None of them were good in the least. Human traffickers who saw three children alone and sought to snatch them up and do who knows what to them. Police or some other authority figure who’d gotten wind of her actions in slipping into the complex continuously or even regarding the burglaries she perform to provide for her little family. A villain who potentially saw them as a fun target.

But one answer kept creeping in the back of her mind. One she dreaded more than anything in the world. That the people who were following them were a part of that group. People who knew exactly who and what she and the girls were. In a world of quirks, where most of the population had one miraculous power or another, they were different. Not because they didn’t have one, but because of the origin of their power and what it meant to the human race. Why she could never and would never consider herself one of them. Especially not after everything that they had done to her and her children.

As such, she saw only one logical conclusion she could make. She had to lure them into a place out of sight to confront them. There were several reasons for this: 

1\. Going someplace out of the public eye could potentially draw them out. If it didn’t, she’d know they were more focused on espionage and figuring her out than straight up facing her.  
2\. If they did confront her, she could figure out from them, one way or another, the whos, wheres, the whys, and the like.  
3\. If they were a threat, outside the public eye, she could deal with them with minimal consequence. She wasn’t exactly disguised right now after all.

However, there was one obstacle to this whole idea. Her children. She couldn’t separate from them without risk of there being more than one person following them and they in turn cornering the naïve, young girls nor could she risk services being called by a ‘concerned’ citizen. Her only choice in this regard would be to bring them into this confrontation. Unfortunately, she could see no other option now.

“Nana, Mariko,” she said quietly and with a serious tone that demanded their obedience. The heads of her two children immediately turned to face their mother, “Someone has been following us since we left the complex.”

She could see the two children tense at the news, their young minds no doubt racing with wild imagination at the concept. Her heart ached at putting them in this position but for their sake they had to be ready for if this whole situation went south.

“We’re about to head into an alleyway, out of sight, to try to draw them out. I don’t know who they are, and they could not be nice.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could almost see her children’s eyes darken just as hers had when ‘Scary-Mama’ came into full effect. It was a sign that their experience in that place had certainly had its effects on them too, limited though it may have been. It was her youngest who spoke up, a harsh whisper spewing with such malice that it would be have been jarring for anyone else to hear from such a young child, “Is it going to get messy, mama?”

The question was simple and direct and only an equal answer qualified for this situation, “It might.”

The two children gave a slight nod in affirmation to their guardian’s plan. Noticing the upcoming alleyway ahead, she preceded to slowly guide her children towards the outer side of the sidewalk before making a deliberate turn into the alleyway. It was a straight shot to the street on the other side of the buildings but hallway between the two, someone could just barely make out another alleyway running parallel to the one she was currently in.

“Perfect,” she thought as she turned into the parallel path and, sure enough, it was a dead end. She looked up and around to find minimal window coverage, and the ones that were there were all covered by curtains or something similar so the occupants within didn’t have to look at the disgusting alley below them all the time.

Out of sight. Out of mind. The trap was set. Her instincts hadn’t gone away. Still the feeling rang loudly within her like a bell tolling from a cathedral. But so far, nothing had happened. This didn’t deter her though. She just needed to wait and see.

She turned to her children, who were simultaneous anxious about the situation and angry at the people who dared cause their family such concern. Her previously held demeanor melded away back into a gentle, motherly one. She blinked, as if trying to process some new information. Satisfied, Fun-Mama looked down at her children as she said simply, “Nana, Mariko. Do you two want to play a game?”

Outside the parallel path, a dark shape, like black paint splattered indifferently on the asphalt, sat motionless. Moments seemed to fly by until finally the shadow moved slowly and cautiously out of view and a form began to emerge it taking the shape a person before the blackness melted away as if absorbed by the person themself.

The person was a man, probably in his early twenties, who stood shorter than most his age. His skin, a dark gray hue that appeared silvery in the light of the sun, was aptly apparent by the state of his attire. He wore naught but a pair a military-style pants, a studded, metal belt, and a black vest. His bald head peered side to side, his black eyes watching intently to ensure no one spotted him as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellphone.

A few motions on the device later and someone at the other end of the line picked up. A gruff, gravely voice spoke from the other end of the line in a tone that warned the shadowy man of the dangers of misspeaking to him, “Did you track that little fuck who killed Razor?”

“Yes, boss,” the man’s voice came quietly. “But I think she suspects I’m following her.”

“Her?” his boss scoffed dismissively. “You let her see you?”

“No, boss,” the villain said quickly, a slight tinge of fear etched into his voice. “The girl has good instincts, I think. Seems to know someone is watching her but has no idea who.”

“Oh?” the voice at the other end of the line said, almost sounding interested. “And where is she now?”

“She’s in an alleyway on the east side of Musutafu. No way out except the way she came in. She’s looking for a confrontation, I think.”

“Well then, let us not disappoint her. Send me the coordinates. I’ll get Noxious and his crew there to…. Fulfill her wish.”

“Yes, boss. Also, you might be interested to know she seems young, barely in her teens, and—”

“She killed Razor,” the voice growled angrily at the comment. “I could give a fuck less if she was a toddler. She’s going to pay for that sleight.”

“Y-yes boss,” came the terrified reply. “But she also has two, other children with her. Look like little sisters. Half her age if that.”

A silence came, his boss obviously contemplating the news. A dark chuckled then came over the line, “Well then, this little bitch might make up for her crime of killing Razor after all. Send me the coordinates. Now.”

“R-right away, boss!”

He’d never say it out loud, but the shadowy villain almost felt sorry for the girl. She had no idea who she had crossed.

* * *

A car pulled up to the driveway of a house roped off by police tape. A couple of officers could be seen quietly patrolling the house with presence and camera. They remained to preserve the crime scene and find any last bits of evidence that had yet to be found. The car parked as the young detective, Tsukauchi Naomasa, exited the vehicle and purposefully made his way to the house. The officers still present nodded to him in acknowledgement and silently affirming his authorization to be there before carrying on with whatever they were doing.

He halted his stride when he reached the front door of the house. He recalled the information from the report regarding the door and couldn’t help investigating it himself again to confirm. Just like the report the door was slightly off its hinges. The top hinge was off more than the other two. Clearly, the hit that dislodged the door came from the upper half of it though the obvious dent in the upper, left-hand side of the door kind of gave it away.

However, there was another detail he happened to notice that, unlike the hinges, wasn’t in the report: the latch. The latch on the doorframe was completely undamaged. That was odd. This likely meant that the door was already somewhat ajar when it was burst down. Why was the door already opened? The detective felt a headache coming on.

“Ugh, I should have just gone home to sleep…” he thought bitterly. “I can barely think like this.”

He shook his head to clear his doubtful thoughts, “No, I can’t. Not yet. Not while I have this idea in my head. But… its useless if I can’t process this information properly…”

What he decided to do instead was pull up an app on his phone and photograph the door, the hinges, and the latch and make a note regarding his thoughts and questions. He’d delete them later after he’d reviewed them. Right now, he just needed to get the pieces of the puzzle that he was missing. He’d put the pieces together tomorrow.

Continuing, he made his way into the house. Right down to the location of the murders. In the living room, he was that the bodies of the parents had already been transported away for autopsy and a white outline had been placed in their stead. The blood has long since dried permanently staining the carpet with the crime committed upon it. On the couch was one of the remaining officers who was resting as he reviewed footage he’d taken on his camera. The officer noticed the detective enter the room and immediately stood up to render respect, but Tsukauchi waved him down.

“Anything new since the initial report was finished?” the detective asked. Unfortunately, a negative response.

“No, nothing new to report.”

Tsukauchi nodded, disappointed at the lack of anything to add, “Very well then. Carry on.”

Oh well. He was a detective. This was his job after all. In alignment with that, he observed the room around him to see if he could notice anything that either he did not notice in the darkness of the night or no one involved in the initial report noticed during the first response investigation. There was one thing he certainly noticed that permeated not just the room but the house as well. It was immaculate in terms of décor in that everything was aligned, orderly, and symmetrically. Either someone in this house was a neat freak or had simpler case of O.C.D. While the room itself wasn’t symmetrical in terms of furniture placement, the furniture adjacent to each wall were symmetrical looking at each wall individual. If you were to take a photograph of each wall separately each piece would be symmetrical and orderly despite the overall decoration not being so.

That was interesting. Maybe he could use this to find anything out of place?

He jotted down ‘symmetrical décor’ in his notes before moving on to the kitchen. He winced in discomfort as his head reflexively glanced out the still-open backdoor revealing the massive, dried blood splatter and the half-body outline left in it. He doubts he’d be able to rest easy for a while. Over his years in law enforcement, he had seen some terrible, if not outright horrific, things ranging from gory overkill to implied terrifying events. Seeing the torso of a dear friend of his punched open had previously topped the list. But seeing a man cut cleanly in two with enough force to send part of him flying certainly churned his stomach. It didn’t help he had not expected it all when he’d arrived. He had expected bloody corpses, but not that.  
Looking around the kitchen he noticed a remarkably similar obsessiveness towards picture-worthy frames of symmetry for different items set out ready for use by the family for cooking, cleaning, and other daily chores. Which family member was it? Most likely it was one of the parents, but he couldn’t rule out any of the missing children yet either. He’d need to explore more to confirm which family member it was, but that could wait for the moment. Still he wanted to get a glimpse of how deep it went before moving onto the backdoor. Part of this was probably due to his reluctance to be reminded of the criminal’s mangled body, but he’d like to get some idea of the depth of this cleanliness prior to an interview with the victims’ families.

And just like everything else he’d observed so far, as he made his way around the kitchen, he found cabinets and even the fridge set up in the same way. Tupperware arranged neatly and orderly, spices arranged so that the tallest was in the middle with the widest being in the back, cups organized by type and size, shelves in the fridge being specific to a certain kind of food or drink and being organized accordingly, and the list goes on and on. Before he got to the backdoor, he decided, just for good measure, to check the pantry to check. He lazily opened the cabinet door expecting it to be stocked with all manners of food compartmentalized in a fashion similar to what you would find in a store and it kind of was…

Except for the shelves that were almost completely empty.

That caught his attention. Especially when he noted that the items that remained hadn’t been adjusted to the accommodate the missing items. Normally, that wouldn’t be notable but considering what he observed so far regarding the layout of everything in the house, he’d thought whoever was the person prone to this behavior would’ve done something about it. The fact that things that remained seemed to be so random just didn’t match what’d he’d seen in the house so far. As such, he made a note of this discover, too, before closing the pantry door.

He took a deep breath before turning his attention to the backdoor, the subject of this unprecedented return to the scene of the crime. He looked over the scene before him again. The open door was undamaged with no signs of forced entry, but considering the forced entry on the other side of the house he had a feeling this wasn’t due to someone in the family personally knowing the person at the door and letting them in. This was even further cemented in his mind by how deep in the night this was and the simple fact that it was the backdoor. Unless the family left it open by mistake, a possibility but not a very plausible one in his opinion, someone with malicious intent opened it.

But why?

Why go through the trouble of breaking in through the rear of the house only to burst in through the front door regardless? Was that another act of rage against the assailant of the criminal? In his rage did he burst down the door to get into the house? He couldn’t have burst it down to escape as the hit came from outside and that didn’t make any logical sense.

He lethargically groaned as another wave of tiredness swept him. He’d gone passed his limit with this. He needed to go home a rest. Reluctantly, he began to make his way over to the front door to return to his ca—

RING RING! RING RING!

A jingle and a furious vibration erupted from his pocket. A phone call. He sighed and pulled out the device. It was his boss. So much for rest. He answered with a sigh, “Detective Tsukauichi speaking. What do you need, chief?”

The reply once again drained all weariness out of his voice just as it drained the blood from his face at the what the message was.

* * *

It was the heavy footsteps and baritone, arrogant laugh that drew the attention of the pink-haired, little family as they sat in the alley.

The mother had been playing with her children. The invisible arms of the three, horned girls smacked each other and rough housed in a display of playfulness unseen by their hidden observer who stared at them just plain confused while he patiently waited for his ‘colleagues’ to arrive. The oddity of them just sitting there staring at each other while the children just let off joyous and giddy laughs for seemingly no reason. And the mother’s demeanor to the criminal watching her somehow really unsettled him.

He’d see how she had acted when she was in the city. She appeared overly cautious and anti-social practically driving away any interaction with another person via her cold attitude. But clear warning signs had arisen to him the moment she got suspicious. She had grabbed up her children and took off down the street, her personal bubble of protection practically tripling in size as this occurred, and here she was now sitting in an alleyway with such a motherly expression that held no hint of anxiety or fear. Chills went down his spine as time passed. During his wait, an eerie realization struck him and now he was quietly regretting calling his boss.

While he had told his boss she seemed to be looking for a confrontation, in truth, he had figured initially that she was just laying low in this alley. Out of sight out of mind and all that. But as the knowledge of her unnerving demeanor fermented in his brain, he came to an unsettling conclusion that he hadn’t really seemed real to him prior. This was mainly due to it, under normal circumstances, being inconceivable to him. But observing now and thinking about this more… it seemed dreadfully reasonable… She wasn’t hiding from them.

She was waiting for them.

He’d witness what had happened to Viper the night before and had immediately darted after her trailing her all the way to Dagobah Beach and her little hidey hole underneath the bridge. He figured this was where she stashed her stolen goods going by the large bag she was carrying but when she didn’t emerge he resolved to come back in the morning to check. Concerned about having a similar fate as his former associate, he left and resolved to come back later but not before telling his boss what he’d found. He’d arrived in the day to find her and surprisingly two children making their way off the beach and thus followed them at a distance.

Witness this girl like this had caused him lured him into a false sense of security and now a cold regret swept over him as if blown by a winter’s wind. This girl was a killer – a brutal one at that – who struck without hesitation. She clearly would not hesitate to do it again and he silently wondered to himself if he’d accidentally condemned a bunch of other villains to death with this stunt. But surely, he must be overthinking it. Viper was surprise. In no way, shape, of form ready for the sudden, quick, and vicious attack that left his bisected in that house’s backyard. There was no way this girl could pull it off against several hardened villains…. Could she?

Doubt swelled within him as he was forced to wait allowing him to conjure up thoughts and imagine worse and worse possibilities. Memories of last night’s events flooded his brain. He, Viper, and Xerxes had just finished tying up and mocking the parents of the little brats that Baroque was dragging into their vehicle out in front of the house when quite clearly a black figure raced by from the hallway out the backdoor.

This had stunned the trio of villains just as much as it did the parents and after a commented, he could just make out the horrified mutterings of the mother, “Th-there actually was someone in the house…”

That creeped even him out as they were never expecting the false warning that they had made the policeman on their payroll say would turn out to be true. He had been confident that the cowardly burglar they had unwittingly caught would be an easy person to deal with. Knowing Viper, he probably would’ve lorded his power over the thief offering to put them on their payroll and live or to simply die. Normally, simple burglars, even cat burglars like this thief, would easily fold to the might of actual villains.

What neither he nor Xerxes were expecting for Viper’s smug speech to be cut short by a grotesque squelching sound followed by a loud smash and a thump. Immediately, he had gone out to see what had just happened only to find Viper’s dismembered corpse strewn throughout the backyard. After shouting warning to his fellow villain in the house, he had melded into the shadows and shot after the thief following her as the thief had turned out to be female.

But that image of Viper, someone he might have even considered a friend, strewn uselessly out in the backyard. He hadn’t thought it had really solidified in his mind yet, but Viper was gone and the girl in front of him was the culprit. He should be angry, but just the way his death occurred only made him feel fear.

“So,” a voice spoke from behind him startling the lone crook lost in his thoughts causing him to spin around. Standing before him were four villains he recognized and new well. The crew that his boss sent. How they got here without raising any suspicion or alarm was anyone guess, but he knew from personal experience they had their ways. “Where is she?”

All he could do was motion to the alleyway. The lead villain, Noxious, nodded in acknowledgement, “Alright, stay here and act as lookout. This won’t take long.”

Noxious and his fellow villains rounded the corner save for one of them who appeared to look like a humanoid spider who crawled up and along the roof to get behind the three, seemingly unsuspecting girls in the alleyway.

“Oi, girly!” the brutish call altered somewhat by a device of sorts ended the childish game they were playing prematurely much to the young mother’s annoyance. Her two children stiffened at the voice. In that moment, Fun-Mama went away and Scary-Mama took over. She turned her head to the advancing villains. Her expression reading nothing but restrained hostility. “So you’re the one that fucked up Viper?”

The question was rhetorical, and it annoyed the mother immensely. She stood up and faced him. She honestly just wanted to get this over with. Her gaze met unflinchingly with the three hoodlums blocking the only way in or out of the alley. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Nana and Mariko standing on either side of her; their expressions matching their parent as best as their faces would allow at their age.

The one in the middle of them – and out in front – was the one who had spoken. He was very tall and had a figure that was very well built. He would naturally be very imposing to anyone who wasn’t the trio of pink-haired children standing across from him. He wore a dark, biker coat with gray jeans and boots. His dark green mane of hair dangled wildly down his head with piercing black eyes glaring at her. On his face, obscuring his mouth and nose was a high-tech looking gas mask. Hoses connected the mask on either side of it to what appeared to be a cylindrical tank on the back which in turn was connected by another pair of hoses to gauntlets on his arms.

The second villain – who was on the central brute’s left side – was much scrawnier comparatively to their apparent leader. Skinny to the point his ribcage was visible through the skin of his exposed torso. He was a bald man whose head was bizarrely-shaped for a human. It was oversized for his body with no neck resulting in his back being bent so far forward his arms had metallic, claw-like attached he seemed to primarily use to keep himself from falling over. His oversized jaws gave way to an elongated skull that seemed to meld into his upper shoulders. His sunken-in eyes were covered by a snug-fitting set of tinted goggles that hid his eye color. His most striking feature was the two, bony plates who had instead of teeth that were reminiscent of prehistoric, aquatic predators. Other than his goggles, the man only wore camouflage, military-style pants.

The third villain was female who was dressed very similarly to the middle villains. Her brown raggedy hair matched only in chaos by the sadistic look in her amber eyes. She was the median of the three villains in terms of height and the striking characteristic that set her apart was the massive bat ears that sprouted where a normal human’s ears would be. A large set of chains were wrapped around each arm over the biker jacket with the loop at one end of the chain noticeably hung very closely to her gloved hand.

“Don’t swear in front of my children,” she said authoritatively, completely disregarding his question.

His female counterpart seemed perplexed at that bit of information, as was the shadow meld villain. The mask-wearing brute was not so impressed and the snarl that erupted from him said as much, “I’ll say whatever I fucking want to whoever I fucking want, you little bitch.”

Her eyes narrowed menacingly at the villain for his comment. The two children imitated their mother’s fury though only due to what he called their parent.

“Don’t call mommy that,” Nana spoke, her usual shy, friendly tone replaced with one lacking any emotion save for a deadly conviction etched deeply into words that breathed passed her lips. Her mother allowed but a small glance at her daughter before returning her attention to the now very agitated villains.

“You little brat!”

That little comment was answered simply by the protective mother adopting a gaze that promised death while the invisible arms sprouted from her back hovering menacingly unseen behind her. Unseen, but not unheard.

The female with the bat ears blinked and made a surprised noise as an unfamiliar sound assaulted her enhanced hearing. The other two villains took notice of this.

“What’s wrong, Sonara?” the gas mask wearing villain asked, though the tone implied it was more of an order to report rather than a genuine concern for his subordinate.

“A lot of white noise,” she said locking her angry eyes with the crimson ones across from her. “Like a medium pitch of a saw in free spin. Something’s going on around her. Might be how she dealt with, Viper.”

“Is that so?” he mockingly replied turning his attention back to his quarry. “Seems like you aren’t going to be as sneaky as you thought you were going to be, eh, you little whore?”

He was met with a long pause of silence. A dark chuckle escaped the big mouthed villain’s lips at the defeated silence. At least it appeared to be defeated until a small smiled appeared on the young mother’s face, “So what? Information is useless to the dead.”

That snapped the last bit of restraint the three killers had as the plate-tooth villain dashed forward at surprising speed for his posture at the same time the chains around the villainess of the group dropped to the floor before she took two, long strides forward and swung on them with deadly precision.

At the same time as the two unleashed their attack, the spider-like humanoid who’d originally accompanied the trio, who snuck around to stalk the girls from behind, spat a glob of webbing from its maw before launching itself down from its perch in an attempt to eviscerate the unsuspecting children. A slight glance back by a pair of crimson eyes at the sound the villain had made showed the error in this judgment.

The actions the girl took were too fast for any of the villains to process. One arm grasped the chain the moment it was in range and with a speed untraceable by the human eye pulled the female villain forward. Her shoulder dislocated from the sudden force but she had no time to scream in pain as the moment she was within range a second arm struck her full force on her side sending her flying into the plate-tooth villain charging sending them both flying sideways towards a wall.

Before they could go even a foot further – despite the high speed they were now traveling at – a third arm snatched up the webbing. The sticky substance had no effect on the transparent appendage as she proceeded to fling the adhesive net upon the two criminals who were now on a painful collision course with the nearby wall. The net entrapped them a split second later. The young thief then proceeded to utilize the fact that the two villains were now ensnared and pulled the chain, which the first arm still held on to, towards her. The two villains who bound together and to the chain by the silky, mushy threads were dragged back fully into range of her second arm which swung at them.

The last thing the female villain ever heard was the white noise she’d been hearing reach a higher pitch before she and her fellow villain were cleanly bisected a flung into the pavement with a wet splat. The spider villain, who had not yet processed what had just happened, was struck by the third arm as it swung back around the moment he had gotten in range resulting in him joining his two comrades horribly butchered on the asphalt below. The impacts sounded as one as the simultaneous struck the hard ground. The echo reverberating in the alleyway. It was a quiet echo, likely unheard by those outside the alleyway, but the sound resonated with an almost deafening thud to the two villains left standing. 

It took several moments before the full scope of what had just occurred finally sunk in and their faces fell to ones of shock, surprise, and horror at witnessing something neither of them could possibly fully comprehend.

For the shadow meld villain, he practically fell to his knees from his hiding spot as he started to have a nervous breakdown. Everything his own mind had built up regarding this mysterious enemy had turned out to not only be true but exceeded his worst fears in every possible way. How could they possibly be expected to fight that … thing?! That monster! For there was no way anyone who could do what he’d just witness with such speed and mercilessness yet still maintain that cold, stoic gaze… they weren’t human! It wasn’t possible! He was a villain. Noxious was a villain. His boss was a villain of the highest order! But they… how could anyone compare to that?

Meanwhile, the tougher of the two villains still standing could only gape. This confrontation had turned far deadlier than he ever could have predicted. He figured from the description of Viper’s murder that she wouldn’t be an easy opponent to deal with at least when compared to other villains of her caliber. But plenty of other thieves with brutish quirks could pull similar stunts so she hadn’t really raised too much of an alarm with him. Now, however, he was beginning to regret underestimating her. The speed and efficiency she dealt with the three subordinates he’d brought on this brief excursion brought upon him a sense of primal fear no other person had ever given him. Not even his boss.

He had little doubt she had every intention of finishing the job. He now knew this meet up was undoubtably a trap like he’d been warned. The unfazed expression the girl – that monster – held only cemented this idea and now his survival instincts were in full blast. Retreat was now impossible. It was fight or die.

He exhaled loudly releasing toxic, green cloud of gas inside his mask which traveled down the piping into the tank on his back. He dramatically swung his arms out in front of his an activate a switch in his gloves, releasing a pressurized blast of toxic fumes directly at the three girls in a forceful cloud of green smoke.

The girl had made a fatal mistake by not capitalizing on their state of shock. His boss was known for his speed so he’d gotten pretty used to processing fast movement in his mind even if he couldn’t quite tell what it was in the moment. And if there was one thing his mind had caught onto was the fact that any action she performed with her mysterious voodoo powers only occurred very close to her. How unlucky for her then that he worked best at long range and didn’t have something as easily exploitable as Sonara’s chains. His smile, which had left in a hurry after the vicious display of power she had clearly demonstrated, returned full force when her eyes widened in surprise, the first sign of weakness she’d shown this entire confrontation, and with the reaction speed of a trained fighter grabbed the two, smaller girls around the waist before her power blasted her back away from the cloud rapidly approaching. So, she had no defense against gas? 

Perfect.

All he had to do now was get close enough to where the blast would be too overwhelming for her to escape. He would have to blast while on approach as well to ensure he would close the distance quickly for a clean kill. He’d kill the bitch yet. He wanted to make her pay for the deaths of his fellow villains, but he was not willing to risk giving her a chance to dice him. He charged forward, stepping through his own noxious cloud and the blood that now pooled from his comrades dismembered corpses. As he did so he discharged every ounce of gas he could from his gauntlets, practically hyperventilating to release more gas into the tank.

As he closed the gap, he saw her previously stoic face fade into something far more desperate as she tried to think of a way out, but he closed the gap far more quickly than she had time to think. He could tell she was about to launch herself and the two little ones into the air to escape the dead end they now found themselves in, but he preemptively put a stop to that plan as he jumped up. He was still out of the relative range he’d seen her utilize.

She was too late. He readied himself for one final blast—he stopped. In mid air he just stopped. Floating helplessly above the ground. A loud crush echoed inside his skull as the mechanisms that blasted out his noxious gas were crushed.

“No,” his eyes widened in abstract horror as the reality of this situation set in. “No. No no no no nonononono!” 

Was she faking her range?! Why would she have let them get so close?! Was she fucking with them?! 

“No! Curse that, bitch! CURSE HER!”

His rant ceased when he heard the matter-of-fact, emotionless tone that would have given him nightmares for the rest of his life if we was actually going to live beyond this point. The two little girls he’d disregard locked eyes with him, his gaze becoming fixed on those of the younger children. And they spoke the words that cemented his fate, “You will not harm our mama.”

The coldness of their voices etched themselves into his last fleeting memories. His own fatal error echoing in his mind for he had never considered that the range of those two children would be longer than the eldest female and he certainly didn’t think they were capable of the same brutality as their apparent mother. But he was proven dead wrong as mere seconds later he became nothing but a butchered mess on the ground viciously slashed to pieces by the immature, reckless fury of two, small children.

The shadow meld villain didn’t bother to remain. The hope that had been briefly resuscitated by Noxious’s brilliant plan and been torn asunder by those children. He had no intention of becoming another victim. He melded to the shadows and fled not even caring who potentially saw him. But even as he fled with his life, he knew what he’d witness would haunt him.

How could someone not have nightmares after that?

The mother and her two children had quietly made their way back to the apartment complex where their bloody detour had begun. By a stroke a luck, someone had had the ‘courtesy’ of moving their clothes from the washer into the dryer had by now they had completely dried. This was very handy due to the state of their dress.

Naturally, after such a messy encounter, the girls’ clothes had stains of blood on them and they needed to change. With their previous clothes dry, they could change into different clothes. Getting here without drawing attention to themselves had been a pain. The last thing they needed were people reporting that three girls were walking down the street near where a quadruple homicide took place wearing bloody clothing. Fortunately, the mother’s burglaries had paid off in her experience with stealth which allowed her to get herself and her children back. Fun-Mama returned, much to Nana and Mariko’s delight, as she guided her children into the nearby restroom to change before beginning to wash the bloody clothes they’d just changed out of.

Even as she sighed in contentment as she gazed upon her children playing happily with each other as they waited for this new round of laundry to finish, she couldn’t help but think inward at the implications of what had just occurred.

Clearly, she hadn’t gotten away as unnoticed as she’d previously thought after last night’s debacle. Someone had followed her to the point that they tracked her down quickly the following day. That could only mean one thing and it was a chilling thought to her. Her little home under the overpass had been compromised.

They needed to move. She had no idea where though. But she knew she had to figure it out and little time to do so. The one disturbing fact permeating her mind even as her children dragged her into a game to pass the time: A crime boss of the Japanese Underworld was now after her and all his terrible fury.

As if she didn’t have enough people chasing her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I apologized for the wait but due to personal reason the next chapter won't be out until likely the end of the year. However, between now and then I'll still be working on further chapters so when I finally do get back to posting further chapters you'll get several. Hope that makes up for that.
> 
> See all of you then!


	4. Pieces of the Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one survive in a world that seems to always be out to get you? How do you survive in a world where you trust no one? How do you survive in a world in which you are its natural enemy destined to overtake those that reign?
> 
> So powerful, yet so helpless. A river might be mighty amongst the streams, but it could not possibly overthrow the ocean.
> 
> Hiding seemed like a good option. Hide away from their eyes. The eyes of the tormentors. But in a place so comparatively small in the world it was only inevitable that hiding wouldn't work forever.
> 
> Thankfully, not everyone seems to know the game being played. And it could make all the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long but I did get a number of chapters done.  
> They won't all come out within the week but expect the next chapter to be soon!  
> Hope you all enjoy!

“Mama!” the childish voice of Mariko exclaimed with excitement to the older girl standing a few feet away from her with a loving smile, “This place is so warm and comfy! Can we stay here forever?”

The young mother could see the light of hope gleaming brightly in her eyes. Nana, her eldest daughter, stood there too just as excited if less vocal.

What the youngest child of the little renegade family was referring to was the small hotel room that they were currently staying at. Although, small, she supposed, was relative. The room was easily three times the size of the small hole-in-the-wall they had been sleeping in for the past several months. It was modest if a little rundown. The building itself looking like it had seen better days. The room was carpeted, something that amazed the children who’d spent a solid five minutes rubbing themselves against the flooring. Pretty much everything in the room set of their childish curiosity having never seen such things before.

“Mama! What is this squishy block covered in blankets? It’s so soft and comfy!”

“Mommy! What is this flat thing with glass on it? What does it do?”

“Mama! Why is there a metal box in the closet?”

“Mommy! What’s this long, white thing in this room here?”

One after another the questions came flying and the mother tried her best to explain these things to her children with her own limited knowledge on them. While she knew what they were she’d never really had access to them and only had vague, blurry memories of a time that she had. It was bittersweet knowing why she had been without such luxuries for so long and the inner malice within her grew ever more, far more than it did after she saw such things after she robbed her first home. Still, the glee her children were exhibiting almost made enduring this situation worth it.

But despite maintaining her smiling face, under the surface the young mother of Mariko and Nana grimaced at the reality of the situation. She hated having to deny her children the type of pleasantry that their temporary home provided. Indeed, there were several things in here she only had vague memories of. An idea that became more and more haunting the more she thought about it.

Was there a time she was separated from that place? Those people?

She didn’t remember much about her life before the facility. Really nothing but blurs and shapes mostly. She didn’t know how she came into the world, where she lived, what she experienced… really anything. Something that didn’t remain though was the emotions. Despite being unable to remember, every time her mind drifted to these vague vestiges of memory several emotions flood her mindscape. Despair, Loss, Confusion, Loneliness…. Fury and Hatred….

She shook her head, not eager to delve down the rabbit hole again in front of her children. She could practically feel her consciousness giving away to her other self even by simply staring down that abyss. She despised it when she did so. Despised how dark and hate-filled that part of her was. And more than anything else, she despised the fear and worry she caused in their eyes by unveiling it. Reluctantly yet most eagerly, she forced her mind to focus on the little girl waiting her mother’s answer with bated breath.

“Nyu,” the word absentmindedly escaping her lips as she adopted a thoughtful pose much to the children’s delight. She had to think of a way to carefully word this. She couldn’t destroy their joy and hopefulness, but the reality of the circumstances was simply to grim to lie to their faces about it. “No Mariko… I wish we could but we can’t.”

She mentally winced as their faces were wiped clean of the hopefulness that had been there just a moment ago.

“But why, Mama?” Mariko spoke again, this time a quivering lip replacing her beaming smile. Nana was at her side and though she did not display her disappointment as openly as her little sister the sadness she felt at the news was still etched deeply into her demeanor and expression.

Their mother knelt down so she was as close to eye level with her children as they could. Bringing her arms up, she gently cupped the cheeks of her children. Nana’s left cheek in her right hand; Mariko’s right cheek in her left. Despite the melancholy surrounding the action, the two lovingly nuzzled their parent’s hands feeling more at ease against the smooth skin. Their mother tried to keep her tears at bay but seeing this image and under all the stress due to the anxiety of this situation they broke through.

“You remember the ‘bad men’? The ones in the white place?” she started gently. Her children did not reply. They did not have to. Their heads tilted downward, hair covering their eyes. Their demeanor changing from childlike to something far more akin to their ‘Scary-Mama’. She grimaced at the reminder. “The people who we saw a couple days ago were like the ‘bad men’. They are looking for us and they want to hurt us.”

A pregnant pause profoundly unveiled the tension that had suddenly become near-palpable in the room. The two children’s hands trembled though whether this was out of anger, fear, or something else, she couldn’t ascertain. Her mouth began to move intending to continue her speech while her emotions were in check enough to keep her other self at bay—

“W-why….”

A quiet whisper, barely audible to anyone else, whimpered softly from the youngest girl’s lips. Her voice, broken and quivering from her inability to understand why all this was happening. That desperate plea, more than anything else, broke the heart of the young mother as every motherly instinct she could possibly possess at her age raised red flag after red flag; her mind flaring with contradictory methods to come to her daughter’s aid with an unparallel urgency. But the fear she felt at hearing the smallest girl speak and her mind’s inability to sort out her thoughts caused her to freeze unable to do anything but look on as the full extent of her family’s pain revealed itself in all its wretched glory.

“W-why, Mama…. I…I don’t… I…don’t….”

The words spoke volumes to the level in the girl’s psyche this went. Hiccups and tears as words fumbled in forming coherently in the chaos of her mind.

“It’s not fair.”

It was quiet. Barely a whisper. A whispered that rang deafeningly in her ears. She spared a glancing to the speaker, her eldest daughter, Nana, who’d been silently up until now. Despite her sad, almost brokenly so, expression, the most telling feature that displayed her mother’s continued horror was her eyes. She knew she was not putting up a strong front for her children, but, how could she? In this situation? She wasn’t her other self, who could seemingly handle every stressful situation sent her way.

“It’s not fair,” Nana said again, more vocally this time. Anger was beginning to seep into her tone replacing the melancholy that had been there mere seconds before. “It’s NOT—”

Nana was cut short as she and her little sister were pulled against their mother’s body with a force that pressed them close to her fast enough that they didn’t immediately process what had happened but was soft enough to not jar or hurt the two, small children. The girls were startled by the sudden action and stiffened as a result. The tiniest hiccup, restrained as best as it had been abled to, broken them from their stupor. They felt small vibration that rattled them almost unnoticeably. Perhaps they would not have noticed if it hadn’t been for the silent visual of the form holding them desperately close shaking ever so slightly.

Nana’s eyes widened. Was mommy – her mommy – crying?

No. No no no. She didn’t want that. She loved her so much. She didn’t want to make her mommy cry!

Frantically, she broke the stupor she was under and immediately wrapped her small arms around her mother as best she could. Tears welled up in her eyes as she sobbed out, “Mommy! Please don’t cry! I’m sorry I made you cry! I don’t like it when mommy cries! Please! I’m sorry!”

The tearful wails of her big sister snapped Mariko out of her stupor as well, and, finally processing what was going on, and quickly joined her sibling in the group hug crying out a similar set of apologizes to her ‘mama’.

Their words were eventually drowned out by the silence as the small family embraced; the effects of their terrible situation having caught up with them. They spent a long time, holding each other without uttering a word, as they let the emotions, they were feeling run their course. Finally, after minutes had passed, exhaustion overtook the younger two of the three pink-haired, horned girls causing both Nana and Mariko to pass out in their mother’s trembling arms.

She held her unconscious children, caressing their backs gentle with her real hands, hoping to wash away the nightmare that they were experiencing. Although, she knew in her heart that was only part of the reason. Right now, she just wanted to feel the embrace of her children. To know they were there. And while they were doing nothing but sleeping away their mental weariness, their presence alone was of great comfort to her troubled psyche.

But while the rain may have stopped, the clouds still rumbled circling menacingly overhead.

With careful slowness, the mother leaned back to allow her torso to take the limp weight of her children. Then, with a single invisible arm planted on the floor behind her to maintain her balance, she shifted her arms down to allow herself to pick her children up using additional arms to catch herself as she wobbled from the weight. Gradually, she made her way to the bed and laid her children upon the white blankets.

She took her time, wordlessly undressing her children down to their sleeping attire. The entire time an unnaturally stony expression found its way upon the face of the gentler personality of the young mother. And there she stayed, on her knees, staring silently down at her sleeping children. A million thoughts, terrible and wonderful, swept through her mind in a torrent.

Self-loathing and bitterness filled her mind. Sorrow at once again being the cause of their pain. They were all she had. Her only reason for living in this hellish world she found herself forced to survive in. They were her tiniest thread of hope and protecting them, providing for them in a world that hated them. Defying the odds for them brought her a happiness she couldn’t comprehend.

So why…

Why was it always her that hurt them? Why, no matter how hard she tried, was it always her to make them cry?

The facility was indescribably abhorrent, but she, at least this side of her, had only vague ideas of what had happened to her. She remembered the pain, but not the specifics. Mariko had, thankfully, been too young to remember much. Although, she didn’t really understand the memories of children nor how much Mariko actually knew. For all she knew, somewhere in the tiny girl’s mind, lie dormant memories locked away to hopefully never be revealed. And Nana, she was certain she remembered more about it than she currently did. She didn’t know how she was treated. The older daughter didn’t talk about it, not even with her, not that she could blame her. Even so, the memories of those _people_ didn’t seem to affect Nana like she did.

So why…?

A fake smile graced her tear-stricken face. Her eyes, pools of crimson melancholy, looked on helplessly at her two children who slept peacefully in the bed.

“Nyu…” the word, used so often as a comforting tool for distraught children, weakly escaped her lips in a stricken tone. The words fell on deaf ears, too late to fix the damage she’d already wrought.

Her hands began to tremble again twitching even as they clenched into fists. Hiccups and sobs, barely audible to avoid waking her children, shook her. The voice escaping her lips now twisted in despair.

“…Nyu…”

* * *

Naomasa lethargically entered his office early that morning. His mind was heavy despite the amount of sleep he’d gotten. It had been several days since he’d gotten a call regarding a quadruple homicide that bore an uncanny resemblance to the villain they’d found bisected. That alone had caused him to pale. Five murders by the same person in less than a day? That was an alarmingly high rate in murders for a single person especially without even a shred of an idea who they were or any pretense of such behavior beforehand.

He’d attempted to respond and head to the scene but upon letting it slip to his boss his exhaustion and lack of sleep, he’d been forced to return home and come back the next day.

Apparently, there was too much to clean up for it to be dealt with in a single night.

With that unsettling thought haunting his mind that night, he went home and fell dreamlessly into unconsciousness. He was up and over at the scene of the crime within minutes of him waking up the next morning. He’d done little to make himself presentable that day but no one in uniform seemed to want to comment on it.

After the first murder, he had expected blood when he arrived. He had even expected gore. But even so, he hadn’t quite been prepared for what he saw when he had arrived so early that morning.

* * *

_ *Morning, Three Days Ago* _

_He approached the center of the alley with a purpose in his step. Long strides caused Tsukauchi’s detective’s coat to flutter forcefully back and forth from the motions made by his legs. From outside, the alleyway was very unassuming. Nothing out of the ordinary. At least it would be under normal circumstances._

_Police and other essential personnel along with their vehicles and equipment still heavily occupied the passage between two buildings that normally would not be noteworthy. The detective’s keen eye noticed police tape across a wide opening near the middle of the alleyway that lead down a perpendicular path._

_As he approached the tape, being ever closer to seeing a scene his mind knew he didn’t want to but had to nonetheless, he braced his mental state. Hoping – praying even – that it wasn’t as bad as the chief had claimed._

_His mouth inhaled a deep breath as he turned the corner—_

_Blood._

_So much blood._

_He had guessed there would be an abnormal amount of blood based upon the last scene he’d investigated but this simply blew that one out of the water. It looked like a murder scene from a slasher film. There was absolutely no better way he could describe this._

_By itself, the alley would be innocuous. A couple of dumpsters, AC equipment, gutters, and other things of the like. Typical for a city. By the time the detective had gotten there, the bodies had already been taken to autopsy but the brutal remnants of the even still lingered heavily everywhere._

_Several pools of dried blood soaked the alleyway staining the walls a deep crimson. The detective had heard the American phrase ‘Paint the walls red’ from a dear friend of his, a world-renowned hero, but he’d never quite been to a crime scene that… portrayed that saying so perfectly. Should this much blood even be in a person?_

_One pool, a wide splattered near a pile of trash that seemed washed away by blood that had poured out of two, separate corpses dominated the left side about halfway down the alleyway. The splatter seemed elongated to him like the victims had been midair when whatever caused the fatal cut struck them. The other one, those small and with only a single, wide pool of blood overlapping it, was more spread out but less in terms of volume._

_The final one however…. He wasn’t even sure how to describe it._

_Violently splattering, deep streaks, and bits of flesh and bone that personnel in biohazard suits were still collecting off the red and black asphalt painted a visceral picture in a crescent shape towards the end of the alleyway. His stomach churned at the sight and he was almost thankful he’d skipped breakfast in his rush this morning._

_“It’s not pretty is it?” a voice came from his right. Broken from his thoughts, his black eyes shifted to meet those of a police lieutenant in his department._

_“No,” Tsukauchi agreed grimly. “I see they are still cleaning up…”_

_A sigh, “Yeah… that one was a mess. If it wasn’t for the piece of metal and cloth you wouldn’t have been able to tell it was once a human. Still don’t know the gender.”_

_“Hopefully, DNA gets a match.”_

_“One can only hope. Should also say that the victims appeared to be villains, too.”_

_Naomasa frowned. That didn’t sound good. No this sounded more like vigilantism sort of like how the vigilante Stendhal had acted. Though nowhere near as violent or a rapidly as this killer seemed to be, “Who found the bodies?”_

_“A couple of homeless. Scouting out a place to sleep for the night. Maybe find something useful,” the lieutenant lifted his police cap with one hand while his other rubbed his head tiredly. “Poor souls. We felt bad so a few of us donated a bit of yen to help them out. We took their statements and in turn they told us where they typically hung around in case we needed to find them later.”_

_“Did they see anyone? The culprit? The victims?”_

_“No,” the detective sighed at the reply before letting the lieutenant continue. “The bodies had been here for a couple hours. No one came through and no one in the surrounding buildings looked out their windows to check. We’re taking statements now to see if anyone heard something but no luck so far.”_

_“Is it sad I’m almost glad they didn’t see anything?” Naomasa uttered weakly. His coworker didn’t respond. Simply shook his head._

_The detective nodded and pulled out a small notepad and began writing down notes from the discussion. He had briefly forgotten why he was there asking these kinds of questions. After catching up, he asked, “Cameras?”_

_“One,” the confirmation coming hollowly. “But it’s in disrepair. Person who set it up left a couple years ago and forgot to tell the new owners. It’s pretty much useless.”_

_“Pretty much?”_

_“There is some audio, but it’s unintelligible. The screen is so distorted and discolored we’d never be able to make anything out. We sent the footage to Forensics anyway to see if they can pull a neddle from a haystack, as the saying goes.”_

_“What about outside the alley. Did anyone see people go into the alleyway around the time of the murders?”_

_“No cameras and no one’s come forward.”_

_A half-groaned out sigh, “It’s never usually easy but with this case I was hoping it would be. Not sure how many more of these kinds of scenes I can take. It hasn’t even been a full day yet…”_

_“Trust me, detective, we all definitely agree.”_

* * *

He finished up his rounds of reviewing the scene not long after that, but the conversation was still dead set in his mind. Thankfully, despite his earlier fears, the five murders that day had not been the start of a vigilante-based killing spree across the city. It was something he should have realized sooner in all honesty. It was quite clear from how the first murder went down that this was no vigilante. And with no new murders to add to the pile of bodies it seemed the idea that it was a killing spree wasis null and void as well.

While he should be thankful for that, now he had to deal with the problem that the killer was still at large, and he currently had no trail mapped out to follow.

However, today he had a good feeling. It was a good feeling lathered in uncertainty and unease, but a good feeling none the less. The autopsies and other forensics reports had found their way to his desk. He had his notebook out and ready. It was time to get to work—

A knock on his door snapped him out his tunnel vision of sleuth just as quickly as he’d entered in.

“ _Or not_ ,” Annoyed but still professional, he called out, “Enter.”

The door opened and in walked a familiar figure, the Pro Hero who’d been with him the night of the first murder by this ‘slasher’.

“Ah, Eraserhead,” Naomasa stated, the irritated edge all but vanishing from his tone. “How can I help you?”

“I heard about your follow-up case,” the hero said tiredly, whether that was from a lack of sleep or mental exhaustion from stress he couldn’t tell. Likely a little of both.

“Oh, I apologize for not getting in touch with you,” the detective said in realization. “I never sent you any updates regarding the case. I’m afraid I don’t have much. Just varying puzzle pieces I was just about to put together.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, waving off the man’s concerns. “I’ve kept myself up to date. This case is really starting to become concerning.”

The police detective nodded in agreement. Not only was a dangerous killer out, potentially still on the prowl, but the media were already latching onto the incidents like ravenous hounds. Despite attempts to suppress information to avoid a panic, it proved futile especially considering the… brutal nature of the murders. Some journalists were already coming up with titles for the new ‘serial killer’. This certainly did not help ease public concerns and it was only the fact that all the victims appeared to be villains that seemed to keep the populace from beginning to panic. It was also this vital detail, as well as the fact that the case was still young and contained to a single day that kept the investigation from being swamped by hero agencies and government agents getting involved for bureaucratic, financial, or reputational reasons.

For now, they had free reign to run the case as they saw fit with whoever they saw fit, but it was only a matter of time before concerns over the now-dubbed ‘Musutafu Ripper’ were blown up to that point by news outlets exasperating the situation to that point. And if any new set of brutal killings occurred, it would without a doubt escalate that tension and dwindle that time limit further.

“Yes,” he spoke with dread barely evident from the tenor of his voice. “In more ways than one…”

“I spoke to a few contacts I have…”

Despite the optimistic start of the sentence, how the Pro Hero trailed off did little to raise his hopes. Eraserhead was an Underground Hero. Serious, purposefully not well-known by the public, and involved way deeper in the criminal underworld than most Pro Heroes would dare to venture, Eraser was experienced and skilled in the profession having several informants buried within the crime-ridden undergrowth of Japan.

Though making deals with active criminals was an unsavory idea that most would never consider, especially in the current Hero-based society, many saw it as a necessary evil. They would provide insider information that would under normal circumstances be unobtainable in exchange for keeping their identities secret. No one likes a snitch and informants were quick to disappear if discovered; usually being found mangled and uniformly lifeless several days later. Letting a few petty, minor criminals roam freely on the streets was worth it to them if they could use the information leaked to catch far bigger and more dangerous game.

While a number of Underground Heroes didn’t quite go as far as Eraserhead did by employing these sorts of individuals – preferring instead to just lay low and unnoticed due to the nature of their quirks – it could not be denied that the Pro Hero had an excellent capture rate for high-valued targets.

Him being involved should have been a boon to the case but…

“While they did note a few villains with quirks that could deal vicious slashing damage, they either lacked the finesse, speed, or sharpness or are nowhere near violent enough for the level of brutality demonstrated in either attack. Plus, they were all accounted for during the time frame the murders took place, so they are not the culprit.”

“So, nothing,” the disappointment was clear.

“I’ll keep looking. We have to find something eventually,” Eraserhead assured the detective, though how much of it was to assure himself was anyone’s guess. He walked over to the detective’s desk and, perhaps a bit presumptuously though Naomasa wasn’t going to stop him, sat down in the guest chair across from him. “Honestly though, it’s a bit unsettling. The lack of a trace. It might as well have been a ghost for all the evidence there is that they were there.”

The detective nodded bleakly at the comment, “On the plus side, I think we can rule out vigilantism as a motive.”

“And why’s that?”

Naomasa was silent for a moment as he sorted out his words, “I was thinking over the fourth murder-kidnapping again. The murder of the villain that night along with the four the following day… those pieces just don’t fit with the idea of it being a vigilante.”

He paused a moment waiting for any intermission. With the hero providing none, he continued, “We both agree that the brutality of the killings would indicate some sort of personal vendetta – a hatred – towards the target. Not necessarily towards the individual, but to what they are. Additionally, we already know that there is more than one assailant. If both these assumptions are true, then why would the supposed vigilante not target the other villain in the house? It’s not like they didn’t have confidence in their quirk’s ability.”

The hero looked down with a thoughtful expression as he considered the logic of the detective’s words. The reasoning was sound, but the assumptions were based off of the most likely scenarios. Still, the simplest answer was usually the correct one.

“And unless the ‘vigilante’ was completely unmasked,” Eraserhead added on. “They wouldn’t have been able to track them down so easily. As long as the villains don’t have someone with a tracking quirk, that is.”

“Or a stealth quirk like Shadow Meld,” the detective’s reply caused Eraserhead’s eyes to widen a bit in recognition. Naomasa took the reaction and laid several report files in front of him. “Viper, Webster, Sonaria, and Lock-Jaw were all identifiable with a bit of digging. The puddle of metal and gore belongs to a villain I’m certain you’ve heard about in the underworld: Noxious.”

“Noxious?! Alderman’s enforcer?!” Eraserhead’s voice raised and he stood up.

Naomasa nodded in affirmation, “Which also means he and his gang are responsible for the murder-kidnappings, too, although we don’t have any official evidence to back it up.”

“One of his men was found dead at the crime scene.”

“With no evidence that he was the one who committed the crime,” the detective reminded him. “For all the evidence shows, he might as well have been the vigilante trying to stop someone from breaking in and ended up in the morgue for his efforts.”

“Right,” Eraserhead said disappointedly as he let himself fall back into his seat.

“Are you alright, Eraser?” came a concerned reply from the man sitting across from him. “That was rather… volatile. More so than what I’d expect from you.”

“Bad history. I’ve had more run ins with his thugs than I’d like,” the Pro Hero admitted through a biting tone. Tsukauchi didn’t need to be a detective to know said tone meant he seriously did not want to talk about it. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he wisely chose to move on with his point.

“It’s because of this reason I’ve also come to the conclusion that we can rule out a defector or snitch in their ranks being discovered mid-operation. In addition to the tight ship Alderman usually runs, none of the known members of his gang have abilities that can replicate the effects of the murderer.”

Eraserhead nodded grimly, “Which leaves us with no motive and still without any suspects. What a pain.”

“They’re clearly no slouch in combat either. Violently murdering a villain one-on-one is one thing, but four at once? Not to mention that one of them was Noxious.”

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like you’re admiring a serial killer.”

“For one, whoever they are they’re not a serial killer. I think it’s clear based on what we’ve deduced that this person killed one of Alderman’s villains and he sent his enforcer to deal with them. It just didn’t turn out like he intended,” Naomasa’s disapproving tone provided a stern reply to the accusation. “Besides, it’s important to have a healthy respect of the capabilities of your opponents. Bottomline is I don’t have anyone in my department who’d be capable of dealing with someone who could do that to such a notorious villain.”

“If we had at least some sort of video evidence we’d be able to at least try to discern how this person’s quirk worked. Maybe then we’d have a better idea of how to deal with it.”

A pregnant pause followed as the men contemplated their next move. The whole situation was not only bizarre but very nerve-racking. The stress of the unknowns of these crimes topped with the gruesome mystery planting itself right in the middle of it all were still taking their toll. This didn’t even include pressure from higher authority – who were demanding answers and results due to the media outrage as well as pressure coming from their own bosses – and from their own desire to bring justice to the perpetrators of these crimes before another horrific tragedy was inflicted on another innocent family.

Naomasa glanced at the gruff man sitting across from him and couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He’d seen way more hellish things than he had due to his line of work, and, though he tried and mostly succeeded in trying to hide it, this case was starting to take its toll on him. Due to the sheer lack of leads they had and now with this new monkey wrench thrown haphazardly into the mix, he could tell the pressure Eraserhead felt – though largely self-inflicted – was much greater than his own.

And to top it all off it’d likely be up to him to fight this bastard if it came down to it.

Noxious, despite having the arrogance of an experienced villain, was a skilled and brutally efficient fighter. His Poison Breath quirk was immensely dangerous especially with the support gear he had acquired that had allowed him to stock up on his poison and fire pressurized bursts of gas from his palms. He was a savage with some tactical experience and that had made him dangerous. Dozens of murders were on his hands including several police and heroes.

For someone to best him and a group of his lackies in a fight so efficiently and quickly that the crowded streets just a few meters away were none the wiser at the visceral carnage being unleashed would have taken power and skill the likes of which made his blood run cold. He knew of very few villains with that capacity of devastation. He couldn’t imagine thinking about having to directly fight him like a hero would have to.

Finally, the hero sighed and stood up lethargically due to the mental weariness he was feeling. He spoke up as he turned to exit the room.

“I’d better get going. I have patrol tonight. I’ll let you know if I figure anything out. I’d like to catch this person as quickly as possible.”

Naomasa nodded, “Believe me, we all do. In the meantime, I’ll try to find a loose thread somewhere. Have a good night, Eraserhead.”

Eraserhead opened the door and stepped out of the office. He seemed to stop and acknowledge someone before stepping aside and allowing a woman to hesitantly walk in before shutting the door politely behind him. The detective turned his attention to the young woman before smiling in assurance at her, “Good morning, miss, how can I help you?”

* * *

It was quiet in the small room when the moon finally rose high to reign over the nighttime sky. The darkness of the space was due in part to the extinguished lighting and in part to the drawn curtains preventing the artificial lighting outside the room from breeching through the dirtied windows. Within the darkened room laid two small figures lying peacefully in a tear-stained bed, their bodies still tired from the long day of moving their supplies, their excitement at their new, temporary home, and the mental exhaustion of the stress they’d experienced at the revelations afterward.

As they slept, the oldest of the room’s three occupants stood silently in the darkness in front of the bathroom’s old mirror. Her face was a stone statue of restrained turmoil. Her hands gripping the countertop she leaned against tightly enough for her knuckles to appear white and her teeth gritting so fiercely that one might have wondered if they might shatter under the force of her clenched jaw. Tear-streaks stained her otherwise pretty face as the storm in her mind continued to brew into an ever more terrible maelstrom.

The tears that threatened to rush forth were not those of the same person they were earlier that day, however. Her other self had all but shut herself away inside their mind practically forcing the stern, colder persona to awaken to the trembling state of their body. In spite of not being in control at the time, though, she had been subjected to the emotional strain of the experience, a curse of being the more aware of the two personas.

She felt so many things but restrained from showing even the slightest bit of that emotion for the purpose of her outward appearance. Never admitting her current slippage in that attempt. But she felt so much: hatred, anger, despair, self-loathing…

She felt hatred at the bastards who had put her into this situation: the so-called ‘men in white’ that her weaker self had so uninspiringly named as a means of politely describing them to her children. As opposed to what she thought they should be called instead.

They took away her past and robbed her of her dignity. They treated her as nothing. As a rat they could experiment on and exploit without regarding to moral consequences all the while proclaiming she was the next step in their evolution. The true path that humans were destined to take. That she would be the mother of the new, human race; the progenitor of humanity as they should be.

Lucy.

That name sparked within her a fury she could not fully contain as the countertop began to crack under the strain of the invisible hands grasping it alongside her physical ones. Her breathing became heavy and strained as the muscles in her neck became taunt along with the rest of her body due to the tension she was emitting. Those damn bastards… those who took everything from her and forced her to live like this. Those bastards who poked and prodded and injected and subjected to all manner of foul tests in the pursuit of some twisted idea of ascendance.

A feral growl rumbled from her throat as she thought of all the vile things she’d do to them in turn. Turning the men in white crimson with a rain of their own blood and gore as she paid them all back for the years of torture she’d endured. She swore…. No matter what, she make those damn monsters pay.

Those monsters. Those crimes against nature. Tormentors! Murderers! BUTCHERS! MONSTERS!

Humans.

She took several, deep breaths to calm herself. Controlling her temper as to not inadvertently alarm her sleeping children. And while she did manage to firmly restrain her anger and keep herself from lashing out, it did nothing to temper her emotional state. Fury and hatred still encompassed her entire being.

The cold truth of the matter was there were no words that could possibly describe the feelings she held towards her captors. No words she could possibly utilize to describe how badly they deserved to be slaughtered like the worthless pigs they were. No words she could think of that would tell how terribly she wanted to rip them all apart.

If she wasn’t so sure they had her beat in numbers and resources… if she wasn’t so sure that such an undertaking was suicidal at best…those bastards, she should make them pay for what they’ve done her life be damned… but she couldn’t… not when she had to protect the two, small children in the next room.

And with that thought, the indomitable girl’s cold facade finally gave way to what lay hidden underneath.

“Nana… Mariko…” the trembling voice of the previously defiant, unbreakable mother brokenly uttered from the lips of her shaking form disguising the hint of motherly love that edged up silently from between the cracks.

They were the only good thing she had received out of all of this. Never had she had a struggle like raising them in secret while trying to survive in a world that _they_ owned. But the joy she received whenever they called for her, that light feeling of elation she felt whenever they held her with an affection she had never dreamed of, the happiness she felt whenever they gazed upon her in seemingly ceaseless awe and wonderment; she longed for it every second of every day like an addiction.

She couldn’t remember a life outside that torture of the facility. All she knew was pain, hatred, and despair. But now ever since she’d been touched by such feelings upon rescuing Nana during her attempted escape… she never wanted it to end. And she would do everything in her power to keep her children safe. The horror in the facility had been never ending. The agony never ceasing. But regardless of the sheer pain of the experience, she would go through it all again to keep them by her side. To ensure their safety and security.

But that was the crux of the issue, wasn’t it?

How was she supposed to do that with the world literally against them? How could she ensure their safety and security knowing at any moment their former captors might find them? How could they be happy in _their_ world?

She sighed as she finally collected herself. At least as much as she was going to be able to. Walking carefully out of the bathroom to prevent herself from making noise, she silently dressed herself in the same attire she had a few nights before when she had broken into the house that caused this series of events to unfold. She forced back a snarl. Of all the rotten, stupid luck she had to break into a house that was also the target for a group of villains in some kidnapping raid.

A brief flash in her mind of two, little girls she cared about so deeply brought, for the briefest of moments, a twang of what was perhaps sympathy into the young mother’s head; a feeling she quashed even as her anger swelled again at the thought of her children being in that position.

Finally dressed, she quietly made her way over to the door outside sparing a glance at the sleeping children as she did so. She stopped with her handle on the door. Hesitance clouded her mind with a rush of emotion she had continuously suppressed. Her hand – slowly and tentatively – slipped from the door handle as she turned back to the bed in the room. She approached it cautiously almost like a child approaching a scolding parent. Ironic given the situation.

Admittedly, this colder side of herself was lacking in experiences like this. Her ignorant self held the monopoly on playful and motherly interactions with the two girls. They seemed to prefer that side of her when it was just them so despite the fact they saw this side of her as their protector her other self was the one that got to indulge in their joy the most. She did all the hard work of keeping them fed, healthy, and secure in this world out to get them but her other self got to reap the rewards. Now, however, because of the emotional turmoil her other self was in she now had the opportunity of allowing those motherly instincts she had come to possess to infect her without her other self becoming the more dominant of the two personas.

Her lack of experience in this was showing though and, because of this, she only had a vague idea of what she was doing. So, she approached the sleeping children with the carefulness of handling a thin, glass bottle full of high explosive. Her youngest was the closest to her facing her direction with a face painted in a frown that seemed to fit unnaturally on the normally cheerful girl. Using a gentleness she wasn’t really used to, the young mother caressed her child’s face slightly before running her fingers softly through her hair.

Mariko nuzzled towards the feeling in her sleep subconsciously feeling the touch of her mother. A smile managed to emerge on her lips. That seemed to encourage said mother enough to lean down and very timidly planted a soft kiss on her head. Her daughter cooed tiredly in response.

For perhaps the first time, the sterner half’s face managed the slight hint of a smile. Perhaps, she could do this?

“…urh…mommy…?” came a quiet, tired voice that snapped said sterner half out of her streak of confidence.

Snapping her attention up, almost forgetting to ensure her youngest stays asleep in the process, she spotted her oldest daughter groggily sitting up as she attempted to rub the sleep out of her eyes to more easily regain her bearings. If she was hesitant before while showing affection for her youngest, she was more so now due to her oldest being awake. She could face horrid villains and criminals without fear, but the thought of confronting her own daughter filled her with a doubt and fear she could hardly stand.

With great care, she reached out over the bed, painstakingly ensuring she did not accidentally wake up the little one closest to her, and gentle petted Nana’s hair. As she did so, she quietly began to whisper soothingly, “Shh… it’s okay, Nana… go back to sleep…”

The flaw in her carefully executed plan became apparent the moment those words left her mouth. While both personas shared the same body, the tone of their voice was different depending upon who was in control. Her other self’s tone was lighter and gentler while her own was slightly deeper and colder. In a sense, a perfect reflection of the personality differences between the two. And since it was her daughter – one of only two people who had experience both personas enough to spot the difference – she was quick to pick up that it wasn’t ‘Fun-Mommy’ in control.

“M-mommy…?” she whispered, eyes widening unsurely at the current situation. She didn’t like ‘Scary-Mommy’s’ attention due to how – well – scary she was. It was practically ingrained into her mind by this point. So suddenly having her act so timidly and… motherly… was odd. She didn’t even know how to react.

And so, mother and daughter ended up in a long, awkward staring contest both sides unsure of how to move forward with this interaction.

The soft words emerged from Nana’s mother before she even really realized she was saying them, “I’m… I’m sorry for startling you. Go back to sleep, Nana.”

Nana’s confusion was still evident. This behavior did not add up when she compared it what she normally associated with ‘Scary-Mommy’. Slowly, though she seemed to process what her mother was saying, and with the events that took place only a few hours prior only a dreadful assumption could be made by the poor child, “M-mommy… are you leaving?”

The underlying implication of the question sent a cold chill down the mother’s spine as the dread her child was feeling became a mutual sentiment. The hand petting her daughter’s head stopped as a numbness spread throughout her being. Her response was reactionary and desperate, “NO!”

Her free hand found her mouth as her gazed turned to Mariko who only grumbled and rolled over at the disturbance. Returning her attention to Nana, she couldn’t help but notice her startled expression at the sudden, loud reply. She cursed herself. She hated how terrible she was at this. She was torn between damning her other self for never allowing her to experience such things and thankful for her other self so that she didn’t continuously cause such distress in her children.

“No… yes… I mean…” the mother stopped speaking, realizing she was beginning to fumble over her words. She really hated how bad she was at this. Taking a deep breath, she tried again, “I’m going to get something for us. I’ll be back soon.”

Nana stared worriedly for a moment before nodding sadly. Tears broke from her eyes, “I’m sorry, mommy…”

“Shh…” she said in soothing tone barely masking her nervousness. “D-don’t be sorry.”

She again cursed herself. She had to pull herself together. Her child was scared. Scared that she’d leave her. No. She could not allow her to even think that. She’d never leave them.

Never.

“I… understand you’re scared, but I’m not going anywhere. I would never leave you two behind.”

A sniffle and a whimper, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

No hesitation this time. She’d be damned if she let those bastards separate her from her children. No human would ever get between them. This she vowed.

“Don’t be scared, Nana,” her mother said giving her daughter a genuine smile that radiated an affection she had never before displayed. “I’m here.”

The moment passed by in silence as she waited for her daughter’s response. She was beginning to become concerned she’d said the wrong thing when several pairs of invisible hands erupted from the child’s back and latched onto her in a tight hug as the girl lunged over her sleeping sister and embraced her mother in an unrelenting act of affection.

“I love you, mommy.”

Goosebumps rapidly took over every inch of her skin upon hearing those words. A warm sensation the likes of which she’d never experienced before enraptured her in an entanglement of emotion she could not suppress. On instinct, she returned the hug reveling in this new feeling as her little girl buried her face into the crook of her neck in an almost ticklish sensation.

And she uttered the words she wanted to for so long, “I love you, too.”

She spared a glance at her sleeping youngest before adding, “Both of you.”

She didn’t keep track of how long the embrace lasted. Quite frankly she didn’t care. For the first time she could remember, she was feeling love and affection. These feelings were not ones she was used to, not like her other persona was. Why had it taken her so long? Why hadn’t she tried this sooner?

Soon though, however reluctantly, she knew she had to go about her errand before it got any later and she pulled away from the hug. Setting her daughter down so she was now standing on the ground, she said, “I’ll be back, Nana. Take care of your sister while I’m gone.”

Seeing a child smile had never been so exhilarating to her, “Yes, mommy.”

Ruffling the girl’s hair, the mother turned away to make her way out the door feeling more energized and determined than she ever had been before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and be ready for the next chapter coming soon.
> 
> I also fixed grammar and made a couple slight corrections in previous chapters. I'm constantly rereading my previous chapters to find any errors. The audio reading function of word is definitely helping in that department.


	5. Cat and Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one survive in a world that seems to always be out to get you? How do you survive in a world where you trust no one? How do you survive in a world in which you are its natural enemy destined to overtake those that reign?
> 
> So powerful, yet so helpless. A river might be mighty amongst the streams, but it could not possibly overthrow the ocean.
> 
> Hiding seemed like a good option. Hide away from their eyes. The eyes of the tormentors. But in a place so comparatively small in the world it was only inevitable that hiding wouldn't work forever.
> 
> Thankfully, not everyone seems to know the game being played. And it could make all the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one! Hope everyone enjoys!

If you were to ask Naomasa a couple hours ago that the key to the identity of one of the most violent murderers he’d ever had to track down would be in a series of low-key burglaries he might have called you a liar because how could it have possibly been that simple? But as he considered the escalation of crime a criminal usually went down; he shouldn’t have been so surprised.

His visitor earlier had been a close friend and coworker of the mother who had hesitated coming forward with any information because anything she had seemed minor. And while a lot of information seemed to be more ranting about people that she and the mother hadn’t like – he couldn’t really blame the woman considering the emotions she was feeling at her friend being dead – there had been one thing she mentioned that had sent a whirlwind of thoughts running through his mind as pieces he hadn’t even known were present clicked into place.

She had been going over what information she knew about what she knew about the woman’s activities the day she had been murdered and for the most part nothing of note came up. That was until she mentioned she had gone grocery shopping that day and had conveniently mentioned having stocked up on quite a bit of food for the pantry since they had run low. The casual statement as the woman fondly reminisced on what was likely the final conversation, she had with her best friend triggered a series of memories that suddenly made the picture he’d been struggling to see almost clear.

The mother had been grocery shopping, mainly for pantry food, the day of the murder. And that piece of information had reminded him of a series of notes he’d taken on his phone on a second visit to the crime scene in question. Notes he had neglected to review before now. But despite them a series of memories from that day that had been lost in an exhausted stupor suddenly returned full force. Among such memories was the distinct visual of a near empty pantry.

Now why would a group of villains under Alderman interested in kidnapping children and murdering their parents steal food from the pantry? If that wasn’t a blatant change in modus operandi he didn’t know what was.

But he had to hammer one final nail into the coffin before his suspicions were confirmed.

He asked her about the strange arrangement of things in the house. Everything had been as symmetrical and centered as possible. The woman’s confirmation of the mother have a minor case of OCD was all the proof he needed. The woman had left shortly after that having apologized for wasting his time. He had assured her that she did no such thing and that in fact she may have just help him solve the case. He brushed aside the beaming smile she’d given him in return as he began to focus.

A few hours ago, he was viewing the case in a dense fog, barely able to see the way forward. Now, he could suddenly see things in such clarity he could hardly believe it. All the unanswered questions he and Eraserhead had been mulling over finally had been for the most part answered due to a single fact that he was honestly kicking himself for not considering it earlier.

There was a third party involved.

Someone had broken into the house to steal food of all things and had somehow – due to some terrible bad luck – ended up in the middle of a murder-kidnapping plot by one of the kingpins of the Japanese underworld. Now, under normal circumstances, such a character would be pretty much screwed but apparently this burglar was far more vicious a fighter than he’d ever had expected. He’s almost grateful that no one has seemed to have discovered him by this point. He couldn’t have imagined that would’ve ended well for the family involved considering what happened to the villains this person had encountered.

He could now picture the series of events almost seamlessly in his mind:

A burglar shows up and breaks into the house to steal food from the pantry. The kitchen is connected to the backdoor so it’s the obvious choice if the burglar staked out the house before hand which, judging by the clean nature of the crime up until the monkey wrench that was a group of Alderman’s villains was thrown in, is very likely. They steal a large amount of food without incident but for some reason or another are compelled to search for the DVR. He did remember a camera inside the kitchen so that might’ve been the reason. Whoever they were they noticed it. At some point during the hunt for the DVR – either before or after it had been found – the villains arrive and round up the kids and tie up the parents, likely without noticing the burglar until they made a break for it. A villain, Viper in this case, notices the burglar’s attempt to flee, tries to stop them, and ends up bisected. Shade, the Shadow Meld villain associated with Alderman’s crew, was there and traced the burglar back to their home which is how they knew how to track them the following day. No other person associated with the mad kingpin had a stealth quirk or were particularly skilled in that area, so it was most likely him. Alderman, in revenge for the slight against him, sends his enforcers after the burglar. But the burglar is clearly more powerful than anyone considered because Noxious and his goons were butchered in the attempt.

This didn’t answer every question he had, of course. Like what kind of quirk could possibly allow to such stealth but can still do so much visceral damage to an opponent? It was versatile; he’d give them that. Or why someone who stole food with such seeming professionalism would also be so violent as to completely eviscerate Noxious and brutally murder several of his cohorts? Self-defense was one thing, but that? He thought it might have been an efficiency thing at first – no holding back to ensure a quick fight – but the state of Noxious’s body, what was left of it, seemed to defy that idea. Also, why would someone with such a powerful quirk and the intelligence to pull off a burglary that flawlessly be stealing food of all things? With that skill set they shouldn’t have been very wanton for money for simply buy food. Was it an exposure thing? He wasn’t sure that made sense either.

Still, he had more answers and far more than he’d expected from how the conversation with the woman had been going up until that point. He wasn’t going to complain. He had something to go off of which led back to what he was currently doing: sifting through months of burglary reports with a couple of his juniors.

And damn were there a lot more then he would’ve liked to see.

Fortunately for him, he could narrow down his search by looking for burglaries where the only thing stolen was food or other such menial products. He could narrow it further by looking for ones that seemed more professionally done than just random amateurs breaking in. Finally, he removed any where the perpetrator was already caught. Considering there was no one on record with a resume like this individual, it was clear they hadn’t been caught yet.

With these filters, he was able to narrow down his search to a staggering 276 burglaries in the past few months. He knew this person hadn’t committed them all. Some of them were on the same day at different ends of the city, some were only vaguely professional likely due to the quirk involved, and some were even the results of open access due to homes being damaged in villain attacks. Not too surprising thefts took place in those situations.

So, he started to think about the problem logically. He did so by asking questions. Why would a person with the skill to pull off a pretty flawless cat burglary, external interference notwithstanding, rob a home simply for food? The simplest reason was the most obvious: food was required to live. But that left the question as to why they didn’t just steal money? Money was the more common target and it would be far less obvious to pay for food than to steal it. Perhaps he shouldn’t be thinking of better ways to be a criminal, though, and should just focus on figuring out why someone would do that.

In addition to all of this, it seemed clear that whoever this person was not interested in getting too deep into the villainous lifestyle. A criminal they were, but with the power and skilled they had displayed they would have had no trouble finding ‘work’ in a villainous organization. However, instead they refrained and only stole food and possibly other small amenities. Now why would that be?

Perhaps they didn’t want to steal to survive but had no other choice? It was possible, but could such a simple motivation make sense with the brutal killings associated with the same person? Considering what was left of Noxious, he wasn’t too sure. So much anger was involved in these killings, but his in particular left no room for doubt about this person’s mental state. Even still though, a cat burglar who stole food with a proficiency that reminded him of some jewel thieves and a violent killing who left at least one of their victims in a state so terrible they might as well have been thrown into a woodchipper didn’t seem to correlate. How could they have possibly been the same person?

Then again, he knew better. And sometimes, it didn’t make sense why people did what they did. Besides, behavioral analysis wasn’t his field of expertise. He had a case to solve and villains to catch.

Despite the hellish nature of the past few days, Naomasa couldn’t help but smile. He hoped Eraserhead was having as much good luck as he was having.

* * *

The double beep alerted the clerk as the door to the store opened. He nervously turned and welcomed the potential customer even as the person rudely walked by the counter without even acknowledging him. He stopped mid-sentence, slightly stunned and off put at the attitude of the person. Recent news about the violent killings in the area by the new serial killer had him on edge. Not to mention that villain activity in the area was on the rise. He was anxious at every suspicious person who walked in at the moment. He stared nervously at the person observing them with an attentiveness that would almost be considered creepy from an external perspective.

The figure was on the shorter side wearing jeans and a bulky jacket and their facial features covered by a scarf and beanie. He couldn’t even see the hair color due to the beanie covering its. He couldn’t accurately pinpoint the person’s gender at all due to these things. Said person was stalking the shelves, looking for anything they found of interest.

“Er…” he started but his nervous prevented him from forming coherent words at first. “Are you looking for anything in particular, sir? Er… miss… I mean…”

He grimaced at his cowardly tone. Damn, it was so hard to be polite when he had no idea who he was even speaking to. Returning his gaze to the person, he noticed them bending over to look on the lower shelves. This caused the jacket to ride up a bit revealing the briefest indication of a pair of feminine hips on her body.

“ _Well that answers that question_ ,” he thought. He couldn’t help but stare a bit at her; checking her out as she looked over the shelves. He winced and scolded himself, “ _Now’s not the time to be gawking at a girl. She still looks suspicious_. _Although…_ ”

He glanced back up to see her now looking through the cold drinks section, standing idle around as she compared two types of soda that she held in either hand. Despite the look and her initial rudeness, she hadn’t really done anything worth considering suspicious. Her fashion-sense could be based off her quirk or the weather. Maybe she was from a place that was a lot warmer than it was here and she needed to compensate. Her behavior could simply be her having a bad day and have nothing to do with ill intentions.

He took a deep breath and allowed himself a slight smile. He was just being paranoid. Yeah, paranoid. Current events have just made him paranoid. Yep, just paranoia, nothing to worry abou-

“Excuse me,” a female sounding voice startled him out of his mental rambling. Jumping slightly, he turned to the other side of the counter to notice the figure now standing in front of him. He could see the expectant gleam of crimson eyes glaring at him from between the beanie and scarf.

“O-oh… I-I apologize, miss,” he muttered out still shaken by the sudden jolt of attention. He shakenly adopted a more professional stance and bowed slightly. “H-how may I help you?”

A sigh reached his ears, causing him to cautiously raised his eyes to see her irritated ones staring right into his. During this staring contest, he noticed her own glancing down causing him to follow suit. This allowed him to notice three, canned drinks on the countertop.

Oh.

“…R-right, my apologizes,” he stuttered as he hastily moved to ring up the items. After scanning all three drinks, he hit a button which added up the total and opened the register, “Okay, that’ll be-“

WHACK!

The clerk was out cold before he even knew what had happened.

* * *

She allowed herself the smallest of smirks at a job well done as she pocketed the cash from the convenience store’s register into her pants pockets with the invisible hands of her ability. Finally, some good luck after all the shit she’s been through over the past few days.

Empty store. Single, junior employee. Not a cop or hero in sight. It was a good day to be a thief.

She unzipped her jacket pockets, too, stuffing the three drinks into them. She figured her children would enjoy the gift after the grueling day they’d had so far.

Taking one last look around to ensure she didn’t miss anything, she turned and walked out of the store leaving the clerk unconscious on the floor behind the counter bleeding from his head. She had yet to notice the dark splotch of shadow that had started following her before she’d entered the store.

* * *

Shade crept along in his shadow form as inconspicuously as he could following the little monster as she left the scene of her most recent crime. All in all, the robbery had been nothing special although he had personally was still unsure of how to feel about how clean of a job it was. Sure, she’d knocked someone out and who knew how bad the head trauma was, but he didn’t care about that part. No, what he had trouble wrapping his head around was the minimal fanfare involved in it.

Perhaps his earlier experiences were coloring his perception of the little murderer. All he could see night after night was that brief instant that three other villains of his gang were butchered before his very eyes. The determined charge, the perfect ambush, the brief flash and spray of crimson, and then they lied still on the floor. Now that he thought about it, there had been minimal fanfare involved in that, too. Maybe, that was the reason she terrified him so: it was her apathy, her complete nonchalance at committing such violence, that chilled him to his core.

Her quick and effective method of dispatching foes told him a grim story of her opinion of them. That their encounter with her had been an annoyance that she wanted dealt with as fast as possible to avoid further irritation regarding the whole ordeal. That must have been why his boss was becoming so obsessed with taking her out. He was infuriated at being dismissed so blatantly. He was enraged that she disregarded him and had up till now proven she had reason for that dismissiveness. He wanted to pay her back for this blow to his pride and reputation. And he wanted to make it painful.

This was why he was forced to stalk her again, against his better judgment. He was terrified of this _thing_ that was walking in front of him, but it was either this or his boss would have his head. He hadn’t been seen yet but that thought did not comfort him. He remembered what had happened last time. She had sensed his presence someone inside the apartment complex without having to see him. And while she was seemingly oblivious now, he knew it was only a matter of time before that same instinct alerted her again to his presence.

Suddenly, a ghastly thought entered his head, “ _Did she… already know he was there and was simply luring him in like she had last time?_ ”

The overwhelming sense of nausea coupled with a painful headache nearly caused him to blow his cover on the spot. It seemed ridiculous maybe that she would pull the same trick twice but… why wouldn’t she? It had been so effective last time and he was clearly stupid enough to fall for it again. Why wouldn’t she pull the same trick?

The whole situation was so fucked in his opinion. Why couldn’t they just leave well enough alone? This was the equivalent of a single hunter armed with a laser pointer stalking a bear that had mauled five hunters armed with high-powered rifles by himself. Who decided this was a good idea?

He was walking into a trap and he knew it! All he could think of was the carnage that had been wrought against his fellow gang members. He was going to end up like Viper: severed in two and casually tossed aside with entrails strewn about in a haphazard manner! Or maybe he was going to end up like Sonaria and Lock-Jaw: wrapped in a pretty bundle for the police and sliced bisected imprecisely as to provide a decent meal for the maggots and rats or some back alley! It would be an image that matched her view of them! Or maybe she’d finally have had enough of all the bullshit and take a page from her children’s book: violently and relentless eviscerating him until he was not but a new coat of paint on the asphalt! Or maybe she’d be extra creative with him and make him some sort of pristine, gory art piece just to sell home the point of how little she thought of them!

Damn his boss for putting him in this predicament! He was going to end up as a cadaver because of him! Damn him! DAMN HI-

A sudden jolt forced him out of rant as he felt himself dragged from his shadowy abode. He was pulled up and out before being slammed full force into a flat, hard object with a loud thud causing the air to be blown out of his lungs.

“AH! WH--!” he was cut off as he felt something covering his mouth preventing him from speaking. He opened his eyes for the first time since the impact and finally was able to get a visual sense of what was going on. His anger transformed into absolute horror when his eyes fell upon the hard, unflinching gaze of the red eyes of the little monster he’d be following seemingly glowing in the moonlight.

Cautiously, he glanced around to find himself in a dark alley lit up only somewhat by the rays of the moon. He slowly began to realize – to his absolute horror – that he was alone at night without any witness in the ethereal clutches of this nightmare creature from hell. The cold feeling of dread filled his entire being as his gaze shifted back to her own as unfeeling and hateful as they had been in his most lucid nightmares.

* * *

To say that so far it’d been a boring night would have been an understatement. At least as far as Eraserhead was concerned.

He had refrained from getting ahold of his contacts again to ensure their anonymity. The more he contacted them the more likely they were to get caught. So he was stuck simply patrolling tonight and it had been _so dull_. He swore tonight was like a day off for villains or something because nothing was going on. Perhaps he should be grateful but with people like Alderman and the new so-called Musutafu Ripper on the lose he was hoping something would happen so he could get more of a lead.

He shouldn’t be thinking like that though and he knew it. He was frustrated by the lack of leads. They had minimal evidence to support Alderman’s involvement in the murder-kidnappings and they still had absolutely no clue who the ‘Ripper’ was.

He breathed out a huff of irritation to exude his frustration. Between dealing with the educational requirements of being a teacher at UA and his job as an underground hero causing him to become involved waist deep in this mess, he was approaching his wits end. The fact that Principal Nezu was now prodding him about the case didn’t help matters at all and he was far, _far_ too smart to try and hide anything from. Why on earth was the principal of UA interested? He was not sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the rise of a mysterious, new killer that no one could seem to identify. No record. No identity. Nothing. What he could suspect the underground hero could hardly imagine.

It was later into the night, as Eraserhead prowled the rooftops of Musutafu, that he finally heard something.

“AH! WH—” the cut off of the aggressive yell echoed from a nearby alley instantly drew his attention. His heroic instincts immediately invigorated, he charged over a few obstacles in his way to get to the alleyway in question. The alleyway was innocuous enough – a simple straightaway through a set of buildings – and that made it a prime locale for criminal activity. Right in plain sight.

He crept to the side of the building top to gaze over the edge of the roof down into the alley beneath him. He did so cautiously as not to expose himself to anyone below. He depended heavily on surprise and secrecy to ensure he was successful at his job since his quirk could only really even the playing field in most situations. Having the element of surprise and being relatively unknown was essential to tilt the balance of combat to his favor.

Staring below, he noticed two figures: one pressed firmly against a wall with fear in their eyes and the other facing them from near the center of the alley. The second figure was hooded and facing away from him so he could tell anything about them per say but he gathered enough from the scene to tell what was going on.

Unraveling the scarf-like item – his capture weapon – from around his neck, he quickly and safely dropped to the alleyway below before launching the end of said capture weapon at the aggressor of this confrontation. The cloth-like weapon wrapped around the forearm of the assailant and with a forceful tug removed the arm from the pocket of the jacket it was in. He activated his quirk causing his thick, dark locks to stand on end and his normally black eyes to glow red under a set of yellow goggles he wore. This got the assailant’s attention, causing them to turn their attention away from the man – as Eraserhead now noticed – who was pinned against the wall.

However, if he was expecting the person to be intimidated, he was sorely disappointed. In the moonlight, he could see the pair of blood-red eyes staring right back at him. Red gazing into red completely unfazed. This reaction set off all kinds of alarms in his head, but he stayed the course and growled out his demand, “Back away from him and I’ll let you off with a warning.”

The piercing gaze of the person didn’t waver. In fact, their eyes told him that they just seemed more annoyed than anything. Somehow, he had expected that response. Plenty of delinquents and hoodlums had problems with arrogance.

What he hadn’t been expecting was the man pressed against the wall to suddenly swing his leg up sucker kick the assailant in the jaw. In the split second that followed, he noticed the man seemed to fall off the wall as if being released by some invisible force before he seemed to melt into a black splotch onto the ground. Said black splotch then proceeded to zoom away into the nearby shadows and disappeared.

“ _Wait a minute_ ,” Eraserhead thought as his stomach lurched in realization. “ _Was that Shadow Meld? That was Shade?!_ ”

“Ack! Dammit! Get back here!” came an irritated shout of a feminine voice which was shortly followed by the sound of an object punching the ground three times at varying distances as if trying to hit something. The assailant tried to follow but Eraserhead’s capture weapon held the now-identified female in place. In short order though that changed as before he even knew what had happened, he found himself holding a limp capture weapon as it had been cut by an invisible force.

It was at that moment that the pieces of the puzzle regarding this situation fit together into a horrifying image. Shade, a member of Alderman’s crew who him and Naomasa believe has been tailing the so-called Musutafu Ripper ever since the fourth home invasion incident. This figure had not cornered some helpless civilian but had rather been holding a villain against the wall with an invisible force. An invisible force which he had noticed with a terrible dread had not been cancelled by his quirk Erasure: a quirk that when activated erased all non-mutation quirks that he gazed upon.

An invisible force that was capable of cutting a steel-wire alloy scarf woven with carbon nanofibers just as easily as it held someone against a wall.

This was the Musutafu Ripper. It had to be.

Once the Ripper had begrudgingly accepted that Shade had fled the scene, she turned her attention back to the cause of escape. A fiery temper blazing in her crimson eyes. If he had alarms going off in his head before now, they were screaming at him blaring a dire warning to flee. He had lost the element of surprise, his quirk was useless, and anything close to her could and would be sliced through with ease. He was starting to see how Noxious and his cohorts were so easily overwhelmed by her. This girl was a monster.

His mind was reeling for options, but he couldn’t think of one he could utilize without basically guaranteeing he joined several of Alderman’s crew as dismembered corpses. So, he went with the only thing he could think of that – hopefully – wouldn’t antagonize her further.

“So,” he spoke with a facade of confidence that desperately tried to mask the underlying tone of fear in his voice. “He was following you?”

Placation and staling were tactics he hated using, but if she was who he suspect she was he knew the only way he was going to get out of this alive at this point was by ensuring she thought he was still ignorant of what had been really going on. She hadn’t seemed to notice his moment of recognition and it was best he kept it that way. It sat really poorly with him that he had already been forced to stoop to this. It was unbecoming of him as a hero. But he knew this information was vital and if he died with it here then his death would mean nothing.

Thankfully, no civilian was in any danger which gave him a bit of leeway in terms of fulfilling his duty. Didn’t mean he still didn’t hate how weak this made him feel: not being able to stop a villain literally staring him down.

Speaking of the villain, her eyes contorted in confusion and suspicion over his statement before she cautiously answered, “Yes.”

He didn’t miss the slight bit of hesitance she had in playing along with this verbal game, but he knew far better than to comment on it. One wrong step in this verbal joust and being a head shorter would be the least of his concerns.

“May I ask how you figured it out?”

She tilted her head, further examining him, “Kind of obvious when you noticed a sputtering shadow behind you.”

“And you led him to an alleyway where he could have potentially attacked you instead of calling the police or going someplace more public?” the moment the questioning remark left his mouth he mentally cursed himself. Now was not the time to be assertive towards logic and the law. His life was on the line here.

The sharper glare he received seemed to reinforce his sentiment.

“Right,” Eraserhead said with carefulness. “I should remind you that vigilantism is against the law and that you should refrain from doing so in the future…”

He gauged her reaction before continuing. An eye roll is not necessarily what he’d expect but it was a good sign in his opinion.

“…but since no one was harmed I’ll let you off with a warning. Have a good night.”

He wasn’t known for his leniency in regard to the law and he had a duty to arrest violators of the law, but he had to pick his battles. This one was lost the moment he had placed himself within a hair’s breadth of death. With those words, he turned and bated a retreat as casually as he could manage with his life on the line. He hoped he had placated her enough to allow it. The pro hero could still practically feel the eyes staring at the back of his head, likely still debating on whether they should leave a potential witness. He was starting to regret how hastily he had ended the conversation.

The distant sound of metal against metal was his only warning. His years of fighting villains paying off as out of pure instinct he dodged to the side narrowly avoid a metal object moving at a speed he couldn’t follow as it shot straight passed him. The object plowed straight into a passing car with enough force to roll the vehicle before piercing straight through it into the building on the opposite end of the street. Ignoring his close brush with death, he moved to place himself between the unfortunate vehicle and the assailant sounding a silenced alarm on his person to alert nearby law enforcement.

He turned to face his opponent with the zeal of a man facing death itself. Determination and adrenaline rushed through his body as he readied himself for what could have been the final fight of his career. It was a feeling he had felt before – an occupational hazard of his job – but never before had he been so overwhelmed with the idea of what he was going up against. The strange fact that it was a young girl making him feel this wasn’t lost on him. Still though, heroism filled his resolve as he stood ready for an excoriatingly tough fight. That was until he noticed that the figure was gone.

“What?” he couldn’t help but utter. Where had she gone? Why attack then flee? It was clear his ruse had failed and that she was now trying to remove him as a witness. So why--?

SLAM!

He jolted to face the sound. A sound that came from right behind him where the car was. He felt his stomach churn as he bore witness to the Musutafu Ripper stand up from a landing position from on top of the rolled car. His gaze shifted down to notice the unconscious occupant of the vehicle hanging limply upside down.

Dammit, now innocent civilians were involved.

“What are you doing?!” he cried out angrily still trying to play the ignorant card. This time the stratagem was far less placation and far more stalling. He had to buy time until help arrived. He couldn’t fight her by himself. There were too many disadvantages and too many cards off the table.

He could practically see the scowl on her face from under the scarf. The jig was up. She definitely knew he was aware of something.

“You recognized me,” she said angrily. “How?”

He swallowed hard but maintained his visage of determination, “You’re the Musutafu Ripper. Your quirk and the fact Shade was following you seem to prove that fact.”

Confusion, “Musutafu Ripper?”

“Do you not watch the news?” he said sarcastically. “The brutal murders of five villains a few days ago caused a large stir in Japan. The media gave you that nickname.”

“And why do you think I am this ‘Ripper’?” she demanded. The tone indicating that she really didn’t know the nickname. Did she just not watch the news? It seemed odd to him that she wouldn’t upkeep on anything regarding those incidents in case they implicated her. Playing ignorant was common amongst smarter criminals and genuine ignorance was common among dumber ones, but she was clearly smart yet genuinely still ignorant. It was bizarre to say the least.

“I’m involved in the case,” he admitted honestly knowing he might very well be signing his death warrant in doing so. “I noticed details during the confrontation just now. I had no proof but…”

He could see her turning her head and he swore he heard her curse herself, “ _So she acted rashly? Maybe I can use that to my advantage_.”

“Why did you kill those villains?” the blatant question got her attention. Her demeanor told him she felt insulted that she’d been asked such a thing. “They were your comrades after all. Why in the middle of an job would you—”

“They were not my comrades,” she snarled in harsh denial.

“ _So, she was there_ ,” the hero thought before continuing his grilling for information. He hoped during this process he could deescalate the situation. He knew, as much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t really have a prayer at fighting her and saving the civilians trapped in the car. “Then why were you there?”

She didn’t answer but her eyes narrowed further in a show of deepening rage. He could now hear metal creaking due to something unseen. “So, why kill them? They weren’t your comrades, but you were together in a house during a break-in and they clearly knew you well enough to find you the follow day.”

“It’s none of your business,” her biting tone came angrily. “They would be alive if they left well enough alone.”

“So, you killed people because they disturbed you?”

“I haven’t killed a single person yet.”

“You just admitted to killing five people just now.”

“They attacked me.”

The response was simple and to the point, but it told Eraserhead enough, “ _So it was self-defense? That didn’t explain the puddle that Noxious became._ ”

“I seem to recall one of those villains was eviscerated. That hardly seems like self-defense.”

“And what would a human like you know?!” she said with such balefulness that the pro hero was knocked off-guard. Her voice was raised, a sign of her losing her temper, but the volume was low enough to indicate she was effectively restraining herself.

“Human?” That sounded more like an insult than a term used to describe their race. And why did she say it as if she wasn’t human? Suddenly, he began to realize he was far further down the rabbit hole than he would have liked to be.

And it also made way more sense why she had claimed to have not killed a single person yet. She wasn’t denying her involvement. She just hadn’t considered them people. And the identity of ‘person’ was not something she gave to humans. That wasn’t good. That meant she had no moral reservations about killing him, too.

His train of thought was derailed upon hearing the sound of groaning and breaking metal as the wheels of the car were torn straight from the bolts that held them in place and held aloft around the infamous Ripper, “You wretched things have no right to judge me! Not after everything you’ve done!”

Her words were on the cusp of shouting, but she managed to maintain some sense of control of her volume. She was clearly working herself up though and was trying to preserve some measure of authority instead of degrading into a rant like a child. A deep breath was finally able to calm her and the underground hero prepared himself for the worst.

“Die.”

The tires slightly reeling back was the only alert he had before the tires were flung at him with impressive force. He dodged the first one barely rolling to the side to avoid the attack.

“ _Fast!_ ” he thought stunned. But should he have expected any less from a force capable of matching a bullet’s speed.

He was unable to finish the roll, however, as just before his shoulder impacted the hard concrete below him, he was intercepted by a blow to the torso by a second one. The impact was enough to send him rolling in a direction he did not intend. Pain from shattered bones blinded his thought process for just a moment but it was long enough to prevent him from reacting to the third and fourth tires that struck him with relentless force. As if to add insult to injury – and further injury to injury – he felt himself struck by a fifth tire as the one he had dodge had rebounded back within range of the Ripper’s grasp. By the time he had come to a stop, he was in intense pain.

He attempted to move and sit up. His vision was blank due to a strike to the head and his was simply feeling around attempting to get a foothold. He couldn’t move his right arm and much his body violently protested any movement. His whole body throbbed viciously protesting his every attempt at fight back. A loud screech of twisting metal was his only warning before a burning, sharp pain erupted from his left shoulder as something pierced him awkwardly to the wall of the alley. The intensity was so great he couldn’t help but cry out in pain at receiving such a terrible wound.

Through blurred vision he could see that his right arm was bent in a direction it shouldn’t have been and a cylindrical, metal object piercing his left shoulder. The fact that simply breathing caused him immense pain told him that he had several broken ribs, too. He fought through the pain attempting to move, speak, anything. The only thing it availed him was him noticing the approaching footsteps and blurred image of the girl.

The girl known by the media as the Musutafu Ripper.

His body trembled as he could as terrible thoughts filled his mind. An image of his life passing through his mind in a flash with every step closer. His time as a student at UA with Hizashi and Shirakumo. His time in his early hero career with the insufferable Ms. Joke. All the close calls as an underground hero. Becoming a teacher at UA.

Using strength he didn’t have left, he gazed over passed his approaching doom to the upturned vehicle behind her. A large, manhole-covered shaped hole in the side of it between the front and rear doors of the four-door car. The driver, a female, hung limply in her seat. In the back seat, he could spot the movement of awakening form of a small figure hanging painfully upside down. He attempted to reach out, but his arm would not respond.

He had to… save them…

“YYYEEEEAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!”

The yellow shockwave of a sonic scream plowed straight into the approaching figure forcing her to brace herself and to cover her ears in protest to the noise. The noise was deafening, but to Eraserhead it was music to his ears. Not that he’d ever tell the man that.

“ _Hizashi, be careful…_ ”

With that, the hero finally fell unconscious unable to keep himself awake any longer.

* * *

Hizashi Yamada, better known as the Pro Hero: Present Mic, stared down the villain who had nearly killed his best friend with an anger he could hardly suppress. Whoever this person was they were seriously going to pay for this.

The man was of average height made even taller by his blonde hair which stood straight up giving him at least another foot of height. His glaring greenish-yellow eyes were hidden behind a pair of yellow-tinted spectacles. A snarl was etched furiously onto his mustached face. His fingerless, black gloves tightened – the sound of leather against leather straining through his clenched fists – were strained at his side. His body covered in a leather, rocker jacket and pants was readied for combat. Around his neck, a collared device of dual speakers was readied for a ruthless slugfest.

“I don’t know who you are,” Present Mic snarled. “But you better back the hell away from him!”

The figure was still reeling from the sonic yell. A sharp glare at him was all the information he needed regarding their thoughts on his quirk’s power. Good. He had their attention.

His eyes glanced over to the vehicle behind his glasses. Injured civilians. He glanced over to his friend, the Underground Hero: Eraserhead, Shota Aizawa, bleeding out on the cold pavement. A friend on death’s door. He swallowed at the situation. This was the type of situation that only came up during discussions of moral questioning, but to be forced to make such a judgment now… Dammit all. He had hoped to never be in a situation like this one.

“WAAAH!” a wail from the vehicle immediately getting the two readying combatants’ attention. “MAMA! MAMA! WAKE UP!”

A child had been in the backseat of the vehicle. Now awake after the traumatic experience, it cried out for its unconscious parent. Hizashi cursed still in a standoff with the villain opposite him.

“MAMA! WAKE UP! PLEASE MAMA! WAKE UP!”

Dammit, he had no time for—

“ _Huh, what the_ —” Hizashi thought. The villain’s eyes were wide staring at the vehicle beside them, their hands returning to her ears as if trying to desperately keep out the sounds of the child’s cries. Their body flailed back and forth as if writhing in pain. Of all things, a child’s crying was agony to them. Finally, before the pro hero could capitalize on the moment of weakness, the assailant turned and sprinted passed his downed friend and comrade before disappearing into the alley.

“Hey! Wait!” Hizashi cried before stopping himself. No time. He had to help his friend and the civilians.

As he rushed over to the vehicle, sparing a guilty glance at his down friend, he heard a faint sound on the air. A blaring, whirling sound filled the streets as red and blue lights began flashing. The music-loving hero decided, in that moment, that the whirling tone of sirens were his favorite soundtrack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to make fights as genuine as I can and I honestly can't see Aizawa putting up a significant fight against Lucy while he is completely in the dark with how her powers work. I'll continue to put logic into this in the future so I hope you look forward to that.


	6. The Third Party Problem (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one survive in a world that seems to always be out to get you? How do you survive in a world where you trust no one? How do you survive in a world in which you are its natural enemy destined to overtake those that reign?
> 
> So powerful, yet so helpless. A river might be mighty amongst the streams, but it could not possibly overthrow the ocean.
> 
> Hiding seemed like a good option. Hide away from their eyes. The eyes of the tormentors. But in a place so comparatively small in the world it was only inevitable that hiding wouldn't work forever.
> 
> Thankfully, not everyone seems to know the game being played. And it could make all the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. These last few months have been quite busy for me. My schedule has cleared up though and hopefully I can get the next chapter out sooner!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The dull, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor had been the only thing echoing in the sterile, white room for the longest time. Three figures sat silently around a bed in the center of the hospital room with looks of uncertainty and worry. Lying in the bed, unconscious and wrapped heavily in bandages, was Shota Aizawa, the Underground Hero: Eraserhead. Standing next to his bedside was the hero Present Mic. The bags under the man’s eyes were clear signs that the man had not slept since his friend’s admittance to the hospital in spite of the fact that the bright rays of high noon poured through the windows present on the side wall.

Sitting on a Naugahyde chair near the window was a small, white animal dressed in formal attire: a black, button-up vest, white collared shirt, and black dress pants and shoes. What kind of animal he was none could really say considering he looked like he could have been several different kinds of animals. Said animal looked in deep thought as his gaze seemed lost in the floor tiles below.

The third person was a female with long, black hair and blue eyes wearing a pair of red glasses. She, too, was in a hero costume though her garment of choice was far more risqué than those of her coworkers. The costume consisted of a black leather, breastless leotard over a white bodysuit which emphasizes her breasts, body, and legs. The leotard possessed red gemstone-like accessories in a vertical pattern from the collar to the midriff. She also wore translucent black thigh-high stockings that were connected to a red utility belt decorated with gold studs around her hips, a matching pentagonal buckle in its center, and black knee-boots. She of all the people present tried to maintain a strong face but her own concern was bleeding through the mask.

A brief knock and the door opening broken the people from their stupors as Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa walked in the door. A briefcase was in his right hand. The man bowed in greeting, “Principal Nezu, Present Mic, Midnight. Good afternoon.”

The three gave their greetings, some more distant and distracted then other, before the policeman continued, “How is he?”

“Well, it was touch and go for a bit,” the small animal that was also the principal of a hero school admitted with grim realism before jumping in with a more optimistic tone. “But Recovery Girl managed to fix the hole in his shoulder though he won’t be able to apply full strength using it anymore. She couldn’t fix everything without risking his health more. The doctors are working to help fix his broken ribs, arms, clavicle, and hip along with the fracture in his skull.”

Naomasa winced at the list of injuries. A sigh escaped his mouth as he rubbed his hand through his short, dark hair, “What a mess.”

“Indeed,” Principal Nezu agreed. “Detective, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Last we heard; the villain involved in the attack has yet to be identified. I was hoping you would be able to inform us if anything has come up?”

“I only have a hunch I’m afraid,” Naomasa admitted begrudgingly. “Present Mic… can you tell me anything about the attacker? Their quirk maybe?”

Present Mic shook his head, “I didn’t get there in time to see them using their quirk against Aizawa if that’s what you mean. The only thing I can tell ya is what I told the police. Jeans, black jacket, beanie which hid their hair color, and a scarf. Whoever they were they were on the shorter side, too.”

Naomasa nodded as he rested his briefcase on a small table next to the bedside. He laid the item flat before opening it up and pulling out a manilla envelope from which he pulled out a large photograph which he handed to Present Mic, “Would this happen to be the person you saw?”

Present Mic blinked at the photo. It was an overhead shop of a convenience store cashier’s counter. Two people were in the still image on either side of the counter. The clerk was askew to one side as if struck by a powerful punch though there was no evidence the other figure had moved. The other figure was a person dressed in a fashion that was eerily similar to the person he had just described. The height seemed to match, too, “Where was this?”

“A convenience store a few blocks from where you encountered Eraserhead. The clerk was knocked unconscious and the register was empty. It was a clean robbery. It seems he intercepted this person at the alleyway next to where you found him.”

Present Mic and Midnight looked at each other as if sharing a mental conversation regarding the information with each other. Principal Nezu on the other hand nodded knowingly, “And you think you might know who this person was?”

Despite the tone suggesting otherwise, it wasn’t really a question. And everyone in the room knew it.

“Yes,” Naomasa replied before remove the remaining contents from his briefcase. They were a set of files and reports he had brought from the police station. He handed a few of them to the Pro Heroes in the room. “While researching a certain individual I discovered a link between the incident I had been investigating and a series of burglaries ranging back several months. Among these specific robberies several things were identified as eerily similar: no signs of forced entry, clean escape, no witnesses, and a shocking amount of skill for what they had been stealing.”

“And that was?” Present Mic asked almost sounding unimpressed by the criminal’s pedigree.

“Food?” Midnight blurted out a little stunned.

“Wait, seriously?!” Present Mic blurted out a little more stunned than his colleague.

“Along with some other basic utensils,” Nezu said thoughtfully, reading through the reports with impressive speed. “Not your average target for someone with skills in that area of expertise.”

“So, who is this certain individual you were investigating and what does this have to do with the punk who attacked Aizawa?”

“The Musutafu Ripper,” Nezu said quietly, this time stunning even Naomasa to silence.

“I’ve been prodding Eraserhead about the case you’ve been working with him on,” the small mammal admitted in a tiny voice. “The five murderers a few days ago… you’re saying this burglar is behind them?”

Naomasa nodded, “I am positive.”

“No offense but that seems like a bit of a stretch, detective,” Midnight said skeptically as she leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms under her sizeable chest. “I’m not saying it’s not possible, but those murders were exceptionally violent, weren’t they? I can’t see how someone with that kind of disposition towards murder could have the same finesse and cool headedness to pull off something as mundane as a food theft as this burglar has shown.”

“I agree, it does seem very disjointed of a connection to make,” he admitted with a confidence that defied the statement. “But it is the only connection I’ve found that makes sense considering the circumstances regarding how the first murder was conducted.”

“Explain, please,” Nezu chimed in with a stern authority.

Naomasa nodded, “This will be a rather long explanation.”

“We have time.”

The determined words of Present Mic were all the coaxing that the detective needed as he took a seat on an available chair.

“As you all know, the first of these villain murders occurred at the scene of the fourth murder-kidnapping incident where the parents were murdered and three children went missing,” the detective began not missing the looks of disgust and sadness that briefly shown in the eyes of the three pro heroes. “Initially, we had theorized that the individual had been a member of the villains who had attacked the house since we had nothing else to go off of. However, after an interview with the deceased mother’s friend, I made the connection that the murder-kidnapping wasn’t the only crime being committed in the house that night. That those villains weren’t the only criminal party involved here.”

“A third party,” Midnight said simply.

“Right. The friend had mentioned that the mother had been shopping the previous day for a large number of groceries; none of which were in the pantry when I happened to check the following day. Incidentally, the mother also happened to be slightly OCD. Items all throughout the house were centered and symmetrical. Everywhere except the pantry that is.”

The heroes blinked at the connection having really no words to add to the explanations. This allowed the detective to continue.

“The villain murdered that night was Viper, a known member of the villainous kingpin Alderman’s crew, and the four murdered the following day were also members of Alderman’s crew. Specifically, his chief enforcer Noxious and several known subordinates of his.”

“So, the big bad attempted to take vengeance on the person who killed one of his guys and ended up with four more dead instead,” Present Mic said conflicted over the situation. “Wish I could feel good about it, but it was a terrible mess.”

“Which brings up I think the first flaw in this idea,” Midnight inserted. “If this really is a burglar just protecting themselves from villains why would they turn Noxious into a new coat of paint? It doesn’t make much sense.”

Naomasa shrugged, “Honestly, I don’t know about that one. Considering the apparent power of the quirk involved it could probably be as something as simple as Noxious intentionally antagonizing the perpetrator. But you’re right it is a flaw in that argument.”

“Regardless, you are right detective,” Nezu added finally interjecting himself into the conversation. “Between this information and the information, I’ve already received about the case from Eraserhead, you do seem to be on the right track.”

“Really? A bunch of missing food and a lack of symmetry is going to prove that?” Present Mic said skeptically.

“Yes,” Naomasa stated without hesitance. “Going further the rear door had been opened with absolutely no signs of forced entry yet the front door was bashed inwards to the point of breaking the door hinges.”

“Hmm your right,” Present Mic muttered in admittance. “It wouldn’t make sense for the villains to try two different entrances in such opposing ways. That would be wasted effort, and if I know one thing about professional villains, they hate wasted effort.”

“And risk taking,” Midnight reminded. “Trying both doors like that would increase the risk they would get caught since more vantage points would be able to view them.”

“I mean in theory it could have been a pincer attack.”

“To what end?” Naomasa asked incredulously. “Both the parents and children were upstairs, and the only way up was a hallway that connected the garage and the living room and kitchen. The front door was in that hallway. If a pincer attack was the idea, then it was flawed.”

“You’re assuming tha—”

“I’d also like to point out that you’re forgetting something important,” Naomasa continued not caring for the rudeness of the interruption. “This is the fourth murder-kidnapping incident. If we are assuming that the previous three incidents were also conducted by Alderman’s group, then why change up an operational style that has worked three times? They never tried any such pincer attack in the previous incidents. It seems unlikely to me they would switch up a plan that was working so flawlessly beforehand. But regardless, it wouldn’t explain the missing food in the unorganized and unsymmetrical pantry.”

“Urgh,” Present Mic groaned out. “I can’t believe how much sense this is making.”

“Detective,” Nezu spoke up after a brief pause. “Were there any accounts of murder during the other burglaries?”

“There… was one. A former criminal who neighbors report as being a violent drunk. Apparently, he was shouting at one point during the night about someone in the house. No one thought anything of it due to the man’s drunkenness. The next morning, however, he was found dead. His throat had been violently slashed and several items such as pots and pans had been taken from his home. No one saw who his attacker was.”

“So,” Midnight began. “Is there any proof that it’s the same person?”

The detective sighed, “No, outside of many similar coincidences, but the method of death is strikingly similar to how our deceased villains currently in the forensic morgue met their end.”

“Any other evidence of violence in the other burglaries?”

“A few. Mostly cuts and concussions from brutal attacks. The people generally didn’t remember who the person was that they encountered though some remembered looking down at them.”

“So, they were on the short side,” Present Mic recalled, slowly becoming more and more convinced as the conversation went on. As bonkers as the whole idea was, it was starting to sound very plausible.

“And how was the progression of the burglar’s skills?” Nezu asked. “Were they demonstrating evidence of becoming smarter criminally during this series of burglaries? How did their violent tendencies progress?”

“The earliest of these burglaries I found was several months old on the western side of Musutafu, but they were performing clean robberies even back then. I have my suspicions that whoever this person is was committing robberies in other areas prior to reaching Musutafu but I haven’t had time to confirm my suspicions yet. Regardless, the short answer is ‘yes’, they actually did manage to become better at this as time went on.”

Naomasa proceeded to pull out two, large photographs from his briefcase, which he handed to the heroes. Both held stilled images of a figure that seemed remarkably similar to the one from the convenience store from the previous night.

“These photos are from the security footage of previous burglaries. No such video exists from the more recent crimes.”

“So, the burglar figured out how to spot cameras and avoid detection,” Present Mic stated as he thoughtfully reviewed the two photos.

“In addition, the murder I mentioned was from the one of the earliest known burglaries. And the number of cases in which the burglar was caught and proceeded to use violence to escape decreased over time.”

“It appears our mysterious burglar has an aversion to the limelight,” Nezu pointed out. “These photos, while helpful, aren’t good enough evidence to convict someone alone. They are simply too generic. If I had to guess, their increased proficiency was likely due to noticing the rising activity of law enforcement after committing such acts.”

“Seems reasonable enough.”

“What about the villains?” Present Mic asked. “Wouldn’t the brutality of the murders go against that idea?”

“I am not so sure,” Nezu replied. “Considering their previous actions upon being caught, I’m not so sure that the violent reaction is unexpected. I also wonder, would that last burglary had been so bloody had the fourth murder-kidnapping not taken place? I have my doubts. It’s clear to me this criminal – provided they are the same person – has no reservations about committing violent acts but will refrain from doing so needlessly. As for Noxious and his compatriots’ untimely demise, I think it’s safe to say – given the criminal’s propensity for violent overreaction – that how they turn out is to be expected given that they apparently cornered them outside of the scene of any crime.”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“Still, with that propensity of violence, as you put it, principal, I think we should be thankful that only a single person was killed before then,” Midnight said with a grim sense of relief.

Naomasa hesitated a bit as a concerned look graced his face at the statement. An action that did not go unnoticed by the three heroes.

“What is it, detective?” Nezu prodded.

“There was something… disturbing I noticed regarding those that were cut by the assailant…”

A pregnant pause permeated the room sending a chill down the spines of the pro heroes present.

“…one of the reports with video footage went on for some time and they were making headway but… a few weeks into the investigation, both the lead investigator and the victim who’d been injured by the burglar reported having issues with their quirk…”

That startled the heroes. An issue with their quirk?

“What do you mean?” Present Mic said nervously, almost not wanting to know the answer.

“Occasional faltering of their quirk, unusual pain while using it, immense fatigue, among other symptoms,” the detective said grimly. “And then… they died…”

“They what?!” Midnight and Present Mic practically shouted before remembering where they were.

“Died?! How?!” the two heroes pressed. Nezu stare also indicating his desire for an explanation.

“An autopsy on the two confirmed a foreign substance that appeared in every cell that was observed. This unknown substance, which according to experts could only be described as some sort of virus, appeared to be directly attacking the quirk factors in their bodies. It attacked so aggressively that it destroyed the bodies themselves at the cellular level. Vital organs failed and necrosis set in quickly enough to kill them almost overnight. The doctor described it as rapid escalation. The more it spread in the body, the more aggressive its attack became until it had reached a threshold where it went full prompt critical leading to their deaths.”

“Every cell…” Midnight said almost revolted by the thought.

“Wait, why wouldn’t the JMA have released a warning about this? A new virus that could do this sounds dangerous.”

“The official report is that the virus isn’t contagious unless under certain circumstances. The only reason the lead investigator got sick in the first place was due to the fact he heroically volunteered to give blood to the victim. He had been bleeding out and needed an immediate transfusion. The investigator happened to be O+ and could supply. Their best guess is that the virus somehow traveled against the flow of the transfusion. They don’t know how else it could’ve happened.”

“The other victims who were cut… did they…” Midnight began after a moment before trailing off as she glanced at the detective expectantly. The detective’s only response was to solemnly nod his head in confirmation.

“That’s… unsettling…” Nezu said with concern in his voice. “Still though, that doesn’t explain why a warning wasn’t made regarding this… no matter if it was contagious or not. Especially if a number of people have already perished because of it. If what you are implying is true and this assailant’s quirk somehow causes this virus to spread, it’s important to find them as quickly as possible.”

“Someone in the upper echelons of the hospital denied the existence of the virus and there is no information in their records remaining of it. If it wasn’t for the police reports mentioning these unsettling instances, we would never have known about it.”

Present Mic and Midnight’s eyes widened at that.

“That sounds… very sketchy…” Midnight said hesitantly. Her worry reflecting the mutual feeling of her two compatriots.

“Yeah…” Present Mic replied, not really being sure what to think of all this. “It sounds like someone with a lot of pull knows about this virus and wants it under wraps.”

“You’re suggesting they created a biological weapon and want it secret?”

“I mean that info seems a bit coincidental, don’t ya think?”

“I think there’s far more to it to that,” Nezu butted in with concern etched into his voice. The three conscious occupants of the room stared at the small mammal in confusion. “Detective, you mentioned the virus attacked the quirk factors in the victim’s bodies. Were any quirkless people attacked?”

“None that have been reported. I’m guessing you believe the effect might be different?”

“If the virus is specifically targeting quirk factors then it stands to reason that a quirkless person wouldn’t suffer the deadly effects. Even so I agree with Present Mic that this paints an interesting picture for us. A clear attempt at censorship by the medical community makes it all to clear something suspicious is occurring - under our noses - to hide something very dangerous from public knowledge. The fact that this virus that is aggressive against quirk factors is connected to someone else’s quirk makes it all the more unsettling. It shouldn’t be possible.”

“And it being centered around a burglar with no identity,” Midnight said grimly.

Nezu nodded, “And now, this burglar, is the target of a boss of the Japanese underworld. It’s only a matter of time before the villains wise up and take them out with a more cautious approach. We can’t allow that to happen.”

“Wait a minute!” Present Mic yelled aghast at what his boss was implying. “Are you suggesting we help them?! Principal, they are a vicious killer with a quirk apparently capable of infecting people with a deadly virus! I mean, come on, look at what they did to Aiza—”

The hero stopped dead mid-rant at a horrifying thought that had just passed through his head. Midnight and Nezu seemed to pick up on the implication to and turned to stare in abstract horror at their friend passed out in the hospital bed.

After all, this same person the hero had been ranting about had attacked him, too.

“Oh shi— you don’t think… is he—”

“No, I don’t,” Naomasa stated breaking the heroes from their stupor. Relief washing over himself first due to the instinctual reaction his body had at the suggestion prior to his mind catching up. “The autopsy report on the villains reported the strange foreign substance only existing near where the injuries took place.”

“In other words,” Nezu continued, relief filling his voice. “It spreads only with direct contact to the quirk’s ability. None of Aizawa’s injuries were a direct result of it, only objects thrown at him at high-speed.”

Present Mic collapsed into a nearby chair due to the overwhelming confliction in the relief he felt. At least, he was safe.

“Still, though, Present Mic has a point. Why help this person?” Naomasa asked. “Is it because they have a potential connection to the same people who performed experiments on you?”

“I would be lying if I said that wasn’t the case,” Nezu admitted before lifting his gaze to stare the detective I the eye. “But I think I understand this person’s motivations which paints a darker picture as to what is really going on and makes the matter of finding this person all the more urgent.”

Naomasa and the two heroes stared at the furry principal expectantly.

“Tell me, detective, why would you steal food?”

* * *

The journey back from the hero’s clinic that Eraserhead was sequestered to had felt a lot longer than it actually was. The UA Principal’s final question had shaken his opinion on this dangerous burglar dramatically. He hadn’t had an answer for the mammal, at least not one he had been willing to divulge, and the conversation concluded without much fanfare. But that question was beginning to haunt him.

All the pieces that had fallen into place upon asking that question. It was so obvious. And to add on top of that the DRI’s past history with Nezu, this burglar’s connection to them, the virus… leave it to the Principal of UA to find puzzle pieces where he’d least expect them. Even still, though, that made the results of his findings that much more chilling.

He was beginning to understand Nezu’s desire to help the burglar. They were the key to this whole thing. Although, the vindictive nature of said desire wasn’t lost on the detective. It was not just the implications of it nor the obvious answer that came to his head. It was that somewhere deep down he had considered the truth, but he with all the other implications that were involved them desperately blocked them out.

Naomasa had barely gotten through the door of the police department before he was jumped by one of his juniors who had a look of urgency in his eyes, “Detective Tsukauichi. There’s been a development that requires your attention.”

Alarmed, the detective hastened his pace to keep up with his now-fleeing junior as the younger man urged him along, “What kind of development?”

“Do you remember the damaged security camera in the alleyway? We managed to get a bit of audio out of it. Not a lot, but we got some intel on the Ripper.”

“Intel?!” his surprised tone quickly gave away his excitement.

“We got her voice.”

Naomasa nearly tripped over himself at the statement, “Her?”

“Yes,” the policeman said. “The voice is definitely female.”

Naomasa let out a slight hmm in thought over this bit of information. Well, it eliminated at least 50% of Tokyo’s population so that was something. Still, he should hear the audio clip for himself. After all, he is more likely to pick up on certain things than the average policeman. That was his job after all.

Despite the optimism though, this new information melded quickly with his discussion with Principal Nezu. The intertwining of these thoughts sent a wave of nausea over him.

As expected, the recording was in terrible shape. The video was so warped, discolored, and static that it would have easily trigged epilepsy. The audio wasn’t much better, for the most part anyway, but he definitely owed the forensic tech guys a beer for this. They managed to scrounge up something of relatively decent quality from virtually nothing.

_“*** **irl-y!**” bzzt frzt “So you*** ** ***ne *** frzt * ***cked u** Vi*bzzt*per?”_

‘Relatively’ being the key word there. Still, it was confirmation that this person killed Viper and therefore was at the house a few days ago.

_“D*frzt*on’t swear *bzzt frzt *** ** *frzt***”_

“She sounds so… young,” Naomasa said, genuinely surprised. Also, ‘don’t swear’? Why would she respond like that? Someone that the media referred to as the Musutafu Ripper didn’t seem the type to be against swearing.

Another thought struck him though. One more terribly than his earlier one’s were.

_“Tell me, detective, why would you steal food.”_

_“I’ll say *bzzt*** frzt** wan*frzt to who**vr** I frzt*bzzt ** frzt*** **, you little **frzt*.”_

“Did the audio censor itself or is that an intentional addition by the tech guys?” Naomasa asked incredulously trying to remove his mind from such dark thoughts. “I’m pretty sure every curse word was partially censored.”

“At least they care about our sensitivities?” the junior policeman said jokingly causing him to receive a deadpan look from the detective in turn.

_“*bzzt*hat’s frzt*rong, So*a*bzzt*ra?frzt”_

The bizarre shift in verbal tone got their listeners’ attention.

_“*frzt**lot ** **ite nois*bzzt** ** * *** med*ium pit*frzt* ** saw in *bzzt frzt ***spin. *** bzzt** goin** on ***frzt frzt *er *** bzzt **** ** * *** she *dea*lt wi*fzzt, ****er*.”_

Naomasa blinked and stopped the recording before rewinding and repeating the heavily-distorted audio he’d just heard. The suspicious yet confused tone… what was that about? It took him a few cycles of rewinding and relistening to the audio clip. He had to listen hard to finally make it out fully, but he got the gist of what the female villain was saying.

White noise. Medium pitch. Saw in free spin. How she dealt with Viper.

That sounded like a description of her quirk but what did it mean exactly? White noise. Whatever this power was it made some sort of sound. If he recalled correctly, Sonaria was a villain known for her perception and hearing quirk. She was infamous for turning ambushes around since she heard enemies coming allowing her and anyone she was with to set up a counter ambush instead. Whatever this noise was, it was clear enough to get a decent description. A description, he noted, that oddly suited what became of the villains who had the misfortune to encounter it.

Whatever it was, it seemed it couldn’t be detected visually since Noxious seemed confused by Sonaria’s words. As if this power couldn’t get any harder to deal with. First the speed, then the virus. Now the thought that it was invisible, too? It was a wonder Eraserhead was even still alive!

He continued the recording. It was pretty garbled though it sounded like Noxious had made some sort of comment—

_“*So*** wh*at**? bzzt*nf*orma**ion ***s **s*less** *to* th*e dead**.”_

Naomasa froze at the emotionless tone that the young girl used. It was cold and apathetic and the words accompanying the tone only drove home the truth into the detective’s head. She was a murderer. No questions. And a few moments later it was confirmed as the audio picked up the warped, distorted sound of a wet splat echoing through its speaker. And with that, the recording stopped and ended.

The detective ran a hand through his hair, “A child. Wonderful.”

“Sir?”

“Did you not hear the sound of her voice? She sounded so young.”

“With all due respect, sir, she sounded ready to kill four people in an alleyway.”

“That’s what I mean.”

“Sir?” the policeman repeated with the same questioning attitude he had prior. Clearly, what the detective was getting at wasn’t getting through to the young man.

“So young yet she has so much apathy to killing people. Not to mention if I’m right and she’s responsible for that string of burglaries… it makes me wonder just how terrible her situation was growing up.”

“She could just be a sociopath, sir.”

“I agree. It is possible, but the burglaries hint to me something darker. Not to mention…” the detective trailed off as unease washed over him like a rogue wave. Thoughts of his earlier conversation again surfacing.

_“Tell me, detective, why would you steal food?”_

_“… why would you steal food?”_

_Steal food_

“Are… you okay, detective?” the junior said as the unease contagiously infected him as well.

“Why would you steal food, corporal?” the abrupt question caught the junior officer completely off-guard. He simply stared at the detective like he’d just grown a second head; simply unsure of how to respond.

Finally, the words managed to escape his lips, “Well, sir, if… well if I was hungry and… er, couldn’t afford to buy some.”

“So, let me ask you this,” the detective said in a grim monotone. “A person that we can’t identify on any known records is stealing food, which – as you put it – would indicate they are hungry and can’t buy food for one reason or another. What kind of situation would that indicate to you?”

The police corporal swallowed, “An unregistered quirk user. Probably homeless and… just trying to survive.”

“Which would explain why she’s only stuck to burglaries for now. She probably has no trust of the state, has no income outside of theft or skills to support one, and she’s too young to understand or even care about the larger criminal underworld.”

“ _And likely has a powerful conglomerate with ties to the government after her_ ,” he added with no small degree of dourness.

“Until that underworld found her,” the corporal pointed out solemnly.

“Quite abruptly, too. Too bad it seemed the underworld wasn’t quite ready for her.”

“Not usually the way it works.”

“No, it isn’t.”

There was a long pause in the conversation as the two men contemplated the conversation so far. This whole situation was getting more terrible the more they dug deeper into it.

“A young, homeless girl,” the corporal broke the silence with almost a whisper. The sound was full of melancholy. “I can’t imagine what she’s been through.”

“Given her sociopathic tendencies, I can take a guess.”

And he could and he hated it. Especially if Principal Nezu’s theory on possible political involvement was accurate.

“Urgh,” the corporal groaned out. “Damn. I’m starting to feel sorry for her.”

“And sadly, that sympathy is going to get you killed.”

“I know. Such a cruel world.”

Naomasa sighed, “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

* * *

“Mama! This way!” Mariko’s cheerful voice cried out as she waved the older girl over to her current location.

Her sister followed suit, “Yeah, mommy, come on!”

Energetic, though not as bright and bustling as her little sister, the younger girl’s enthusiasm couldn’t help but make their mother figure smile in spite of the turmoil her mind that had been reeling over the events of the previous night. Even as she made her way over to her two children with a thin facade of happiness an ever-nagging presence made itself known in the back of her mind.

The memories of the other self had never so forcefully invaded her psyche before, but the information she had gained from it… well, she wasn’t sure how much lower her situation could get. Dread and anxiety were slowly encroaching on the small part of her capable of upkeeping the facade directed towards her dependent children. Because of this, it was becoming harder and harder to not break in front of them and with the memories of their breakdown the previous day fresh in her mind she wasn’t sure she could take another blow like that.

The temptation to retreat into her psyche and let her colder self take over to take the full brunt of the emotional impact was a growing one.

Her children were currently playing in the maze of garbage that overshadowed the beach near their previous home. Everything that had happened over the past day since leaving had been one nightmare scenario for her and her little family one after another so she decided a bit of familiar scenery might help reduce the raging emotional weight of everything. She hoped it would at least.

And so, she allowed herself to be dragged along by her children through the junkyard beachhead indulging the various and everchanging selection of games they wanted to play with her. From afternoon till the sunset, she played along, cherishing her children’s joy, and almost forgetting about the inevitable fallout of the previous night’s events.

What she decided would be their final game – to which there was much pouting and dismay – would be hide-and-seek. She’d seen some human children playing this game awhile back and decided to see if she could imitate children’s game to play with her own children like she adopted some parenting techniques from observing human parents. It was also a good way to teach her children how to avoid detection from someone looking for them as well as enhancing their critical thinking regarding investigating different locations. These skills would prove vital when she felt they were old enough to perform burglaries as well.

To support this concept, she would be the seeker while Nana and Mariko hid from her. It was not lost on her that this was a good opportunity to practice these skills herself since these skills were primarily used by her colder alter ego. So, while she subconsciously knew what she should do and could instinctually perform it she had limited experience that she could draw from mentally to utilize it. She thought this would be a decent opportunity to try to reach the level of her counterpart.

With cheerful glee that seemed to erase their emotional turmoil from the previous night, the two girls ran off in different directions. The mother hadn’t seen them as her eyes were covered as she counted down from a predetermined number, but she did hear them run off. A slight smile graced her lips even as she continued to countdown with hands over her eyes.

“…3…2…1… Ready or not here I come!” she giggled slightly at her own actions.

With that, she uncovers her eyes and looks around; her children being no where in sight. However, she did notice the difference in how the sand looked and easily deduced which directions the girls had run of in. She smiled; glad she was able to pick up on that detail without her alter ego’s help. But despite having an alter ego, she still was only one body and couldn’t follow both at once. Therefore, she had to pick one.

Recalling the sounds of her giddy children, she picked the route she was certain Mariko had gone down. She followed the small craters of sand mixed with smaller pieces of debris through the twists and turns of the towering trash piles. Such pathways weren’t originally very clear. They had been excavated by herself and her children during their playtimes several months ago. The purpose of going through the trash area had been to dispose of unwanted garbage from a burglary, like the security DVR, and as a means of breaking line of sight with anyone potentially watching them. Therefore, making their own pathways through the mounds of rubbish were essentially at versifying the way they traversed the trash field as a means of breaking that line of sight. This also meant that her and her children had a rather good mental map of the whole place.

As she started exploring, rather than utilizing her eyesight to locate the two, little girls hiding in the remnants of unwanted things, seven pairs of invisible arms sprouted from her back and began searching in a limited area around her only reaching about 2 meters away from her in total. It wasn’t much, but she wanted to try and figure out if she could figure out a way to efficiently use every arm, she had available to make up for her lack of range. The best way she knew to figure this out would be simple trial and error as there had to be an optimal way to utilize her arms without overexerting herself.

Several minutes had already passed and Mariko’s trail in the sand had noticeably vanished. Not surprising really. Mariko always had a knack of figuring out ways to use her abilities. Considering it was the same type of technique she vaguely remembered her other self using, she was quite proud.

And so, as she walked through the train wreck that was the beach, she tried different methods of searching through the expansive piles of garbage before her. Her arms passing without resistance through the collection of solid, sand-ridden objects. Many of the objects she had seen in homes she had broken into. She had a basic understanding of the names and functions of many of them.

A lot of that stemmed from observation and eavesdropping after her escape from the facility, however, such espionage hardly accounted for all her human world knowledge. She assumed it had something to do with a subconscious memory from her past though for the life of her such a memory never seemed to reach the forefront of her mind. It was at most a feeling and nothing more.

She opted to ignore the troubling feeling of that notion and focus more on her surroundings as she continued her search. Ignoring the nagging sense of distant familiarity in favor of the material realm before her. This led her to noticing an awfully familiar object.

She froze in place.

Before her, partial buried in various ruined appliances, broken knickknacks, and items indiscernible from their original forms, was the wreckage of a vehicle. Its windows had been smashed, hood contorted, headlights broken; all around totaled by some form of past maltreatment or tragic happenstance.

However, that thought wasn’t what caused her such pause. That thought wasn’t what caused every muscle in her body to tighten to the point it hurt. That thought wasn’t what was causing a seemingly endless flow of repeating memories – visages of previous moments – that poured through her fragile mind like a raging river.

_“MAMA! MAMA! WAKE UP!”_

_… a rolled car… a gruesome entry wound into the metal… a screaming child…_

_The mother’s eyes were widened in a panic. Her hands covering her ears in reflex. Her whole body began to shake violently._

_“W-why… Mama…”_

_… tears falling from the eyes of a pink haired child…_

_“MAMA!”_

_“MOMMY!”_

_…. a flash of two children… red eyes… hair of shades of pink… faces contorted in despair…_

_She dropped to her knees. Tears dropped from her eyes. She didn’t blink. Her hands were pressed so hard over her ears her head began to feel intense pain at the continuous application of force. She did not stop though._

_“Monster.”_

_… sterile, white room… can’t move… faceless figures in white…_

_“Monster!”_

_…Bang!…Bang!…Bang!…_

_“MONSTER!”_

_….screams….the sounds of squelching… bodies flying… red….blood…_

**_“MONSTER!”_ **

CRUNCH!

She jumped at the noise and quickly darted her heard around to see what the noise was. Through blurry vision she could just make out the visage of her invisible hands putting enough force on the damage vehicle that sparked the event to forcible crush the sides of it. She tried to slow her hyperventilation – something she hadn’t even realized up until that point she’d been doing – and quickly rubbed a shaking hand across her eyes to clear her vision.

“—oriya, are you alright?!” she faintly caught the worried tone of a strong voice nearby.

Her eyes widened in fear at the sound of other people. What were they doing here?! And now of all times?! Her ears picked up a quieter voice responding to the first one. She couldn’t really understand much of what was steady, but she did notice the slight raising in volume towards her direction.

Panic once again set in over her body as her head started to dart around again this time with a different target in mind. Seemingly on instinct, all pair of her invisible arms appeared and began aiding in her search. Within seconds, she found a large piece of trash, an old refrigerator turned on its side. Using her arms, she quickly dug a hole for herself underneath and slide her whole body beneath the large appliance.

She had just managed to slightly refill the hole to better hide herself by the time she noticed two people enter the area she previously occupied. In her current position, she was on her side with half her body buried in sand and a vantage point that only allowed her to see shoes. A pair of large, white shoes belonging to a huge person and a pair of red shoes belonging to a smaller person entered her vision.

“Young Midoriya, are you certain you heard the noise this way?” the strong voice boomed in a contemplative tone.

“Er… y-yes, All Might,” a meek and quiet voice responded. The name of the other figure caused a semblance of recognition to worm its way into her mind. Where had she heard that name before?

“Strange. Whatever caused that seems to have fled. I wonder what caused—”

“U-uh, All Might? I-It looks like t-there is a trail in-n the s-sand.”

She tensed at the discovery. Did she leave a trail to her hiding spot? Or was it the trail back to where she had started playing with her children? Her eyes widened again in panic as she covered her mouth with her hand to prevent the sounds of her rapid breathing from being noticed by them.

What if they found her children before she did?

What would these people do?

What would her children do?

“Hmm? Ah! Good eye, Young Midoriya!” the man boomed proudly. “It appears someone was here previously. Hmm, they must have caused some time a damage. Probably weren’t expecting company.”

“T-they probably r-ran off,” the meek voice replied. “D-do y-ou think they’re o-okay?”

She heard the other man chuckled a bit, “Always concerned for others. Why don’t we follow this trail and find out?”

“F-F-Follow t-them?!”

“Of course! After all, if they ran off then they must be in some sort of distress, correct?”

An anger boiled inside her that she struggled to repress. She could feel her consciousness give way to her other self. A cold fury erupting from her at the thought of them finding her precious, little girls. She felt her other hand, locked effectively under her own body, clench into a fist involuntarily.

“W-well, yes? But what if t-they were here for another r-reason? After all this is a place most people would not usually go to sothatwouldlogicallymeanthatthiswouldbeaplacetogotogetawayfrompeopleandwhilethatwouldmakesenseifsomeonewasindistressitcouldalsomeantheycouldbehereforamorevillainouspurpos—”

“Young Midoriya! Relax! I am here! There is nothing to be afraid of! Come on, let’s go!”

“Eep, y-yes, All Might.”

With that the two walked away following the trail she’d left behind. After a moment, sand slowly pushed away from her hiding place. Stiffly and cautious, she removes herself from under the fridge and once again returns to her feet. Sand pouring from her hair and clothing as she did so. As uncomfortable as it was, she paid it no mind.

The timid side of her was no longer in control. The darker visage was now in control. Her task was clear now. She had to find her children and get out of here. The humans here could not know of their presence. With her resolve now clear and her determination now locked she continued her search for Mariko away from where the two humans had ventured.

Her focus was of such magnitude she failed to notice the sputtering shadow creeping hesitating nearby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Welcome to the newest readers as well! I know it's been a bit since I updated and I truly apologize for that. Sitting down and focusing isn't my strong suit, but I'm working to improve that problem.
> 
> I've also gone back and fixed some errors in previous chapters! If you notice any problems or errors please let me know. I want to set out my best work and any feedback would be great!
> 
> Thanks again and have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for your time and I hope you enjoyed what I have done so far. Look forward to updating again soon!


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